#it's okay in a pinch but it's really. really not good

[bopero]

loose lips & victories

there is an unnamed & blossoming urge you bring out of hamzah. (SMUT MDNI!)

Dating Hamzah has consisted of nothing but sweet dreams and candy roads. He brings you whatever you may ask for, whatever you desire. His adamant need to fulfill all of your wishes is adorable, proving his loyalty to you time and time again in his own subtle ways. He’s attuned to your thoughts. Scarily so. You don’t know if he’s good at being in relationships, or just reading you.

Superficially, he’s doing anything he can to be a good boyfriend. And he is a good boyfriend.

There’s just a small part of himself he hides. You know from the lingering stares that burn through your nerves and the touches that are ingrained into your skin. The grooves of his fingers reveal something that his mouth can never really articulate.

The house is loud and brimming with people. Martin had invited the two of you over for a ‘small’ get-together, but you fear losing Hamzah in the crowd as he pulls you through towards a lesser crowded space. You’re grateful for his touch, as small as it is, because it lessens the nerves just enough to where you won’t lose your mind. He seems to do that a lot for you.

When you reach the kitchen, Hamzah’s face is pinched in a familiar way. It tells you all you need to know without words: he’s ready to leave. He nods towards the door, signaling to you instead of trying to speak over the barrage of noise. Before either of you can step towards the door, although, a hand on your shoulder stops you. You assume it’s someone you know who’d have the audacity to touch you, but as you turn your smile drops.

Some man you’d never seen before stands there with a goofy smile that only annoys you. Something about him screams cocky and arrogant.

“Yo, where you off to, mama?” He sips from the plastic cup in his hand, drunk off his ass and you have to shake your head in disbelief.

Hamzah’s hand tightens around yours, “Uh…leaving. With my boyfriend.”

The man only laughs, spilling some of his drink as he bumps into whoever’s around him, “Yooo, my bad man, I didn’t even realize she was taken, for real.”

Hamzah’s very obviously (to you, at least) reaching his tipping point, his eyebrows furrowing deeper with every moment that passes with this man standing in front of him, “It’s…chill.”

He tries to let it go peacefully, once again leading you towards the exit. This time, he makes sure to wrap an arm around your shoulders. He tells himself it’s to keep you safe, but really it’s to ward off any other potential drunken ‘suitors.’

The man doesn’t seem to take the obvious hint when you both turn your backs, “Yo, but why don’t you let her stay a whi-“

“We’re leaving. Bye.”

Hamzah’s voice is clipped, and with his shouting over the music the man seems to understand-through his drunken state of mind-that maybe he shouldn’t flirt with people who have boyfriends. Mandy seems too busy handling Martin across the room, so you wave to her as you leave.

Hamzah groans when you arrive outside, finally able to breathe and let his arms stretch, “You…okay?”

This is the first time he’s ever shown any sort of possessiveness over you. The strange concoction of feelings flowing inside you is new, but you don’t fear it. You lean into the high that Hamzah gives you.

“‘M okay. I’m sure he’ll be embarrassed in the morning.”

Something is bothering him. He scoffs as he walks down the steps. His feet move quickly and with fervor as he shoves his hands in his pockets, “Yeah, he should be. Fuckin’ weirdo.”

His breath puffs out into the cold night air. The venom in his words sends some kind of adrenaline through you, “Are you okay?”

“Pfft, I’m fine. I’m perfect. Love it when sleezeballs flirt with my girlfriend in front of me.”

“Hamzah.”

You stop as you both reach the sidewalk beside his parked car. He turns to you, “I’m not mad at you, sorry. ‘S not your fault at all. Just-don’t like to see that. Sorry.”

“You’re jealous.”

He scratches the back of his neck embarrassedly, “What? Noooo, I just care about women a lot. ‘M a feminist.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“Ok, yes, I’m jealous.”

You step towards him. He stands frozen. You think in fear, but really he’s only trying to hold back the overwhelming urge to pull you in and kiss you all over. Do more than kiss you. Claim you.

He’s kind of afraid to admit those urges.

You pull him in by the collar of his jacket, forcing his nervous eyes to look at you, “You know I’m yours, right? Like, you asked me out and everything?”

He rolls his eyes, his tongue poking his cheek as the annoyance from before seeps through, “I know that. That douchebag didn’t.”

A thrill runs through your body. Seeing his jaw clenched, his balled up fists, and his sweet demeanor replaced by something completely opposite causes a chain reaction inside of you.

You grab the courage inside of you before it can leave and you mumble out, “Maybe you should make it so that he knows…”

He stares dumbfounded, “What? You want me to fight him? ‘Cause girl, I will.”

He looks back at your confused, frustrated face. It takes him a moment to really understand what you mean. For all he brags about knowing and understanding you, he’s slow on the uptake.

“Oh.”

Hamzah doesn’t know what to do. Before he can gather any sort of courage, you kiss him. It’s the kind of kiss that makes him float on cloud 9, and he’s not really sure where he is in time and space. He just knows your lips are on his and that’s all his mind can focus on. His hands find their way to your hips, hesitant on their way down but firm in their grip. He lets out a whine when your hands pull him downwards towards you and you laugh into the kiss.

You separate to catch your breath, Hamzah’s lips chasing yours, “Do you get what I mean now?”

He’s breathless and his red cheeks are only made worse with the cold, “Yeah, I think so.”

“We should go to your car.”

“Yeah.”

“In the backseat.”

Hamzah rushes to rip open his door handle, and he sheepishly laughs at the look you give him. You climb in quickly, because truthfully, you’re just as eager as he is. As soon as he climbs in and shuts the door, you maneuver your way between his legs. It’s hard to so in the small space of the car, but the tent that seems to grow in his pants is all you’re focused on.

He stops you as your hands reach to unbuckle his belt, cupping your cheeks in his hands, “W-wait, you’re sure, right? Just- don’t do this cause you feel like you gotta.”

You rub circles onto one of the hands on your face, “Hamzah, I’ve been wanting to suck your dick since the first day we met.”

“Oh.”

When you make that clear, Hamzah lets you shimmy him out of his jeans. You palm him through his boxers, watching as he wriggles and tries to be patient for you. He clearly struggles as the whines build in his throat and his hands itch to touch you, feel you.

He leans back when you finally touch him unclothed for the first time, grabbing the headpiece of the seat as he tries to bring his mind back to Earth for you. Your hands seem to know just how to touch him to get him crumbling, tracing the most sensitive parts of him that leave him breathless and shaking.

“F-fuck…jus’-just don’t stop, please.”

You’ve barely begun and he’s broken to his bare core: begging and pleading for you. He shakes in your hands, sweating heavily. When you take him in your mouth, his entire body jolts and his mouth lets out the prettiest sounds. He’s putty in your hands.

Your tongue runs over him, hand taking the rest of his length so no part of his is neglected. You have to hold his hips still as he moans aloud, letting nonsense praises spill while he loses control.

“Baby, baby… I ca-you gotta slow down, ‘m gonna-“

Whatever restraint he seems to hold finally snaps as he grabs your hair and stops you in your tracks, “I’m sorry-fuck-I jus’ can’t stop,”

He sounds so apologetic, teary, and pathetic as he fucks your mouth. With every harsh thrust he gives, the more he breaks. You’re sure whoever’s passing by right now can hear him moaning at the top of his lungs. But neither of you seem to care.

You gag on him as he hits the back of your throat, and that only seems to bring him closer to the edge, “So good to me, fuck, can’t believe you’re mine,” you moan at his words, the vibration of your hums sending a shiver throughout his entire body, “Yeah? You’re mine, huh? Gotta let everybody know.”

Your watery eyes meet his, and that seems to light something in him. The little spark of a flame that’s been building up at the bottom of his spine is suddenly bursting as he pulls your head until your nose touches his pelvis.

“Fuck, ‘m sorry…!”

His high-pitched moans betray his words, hips twitching with every drop of his come that pours into your mouth. You take it all greedily and hungrily, watching the way his pretty face contorts when he’s in the throes of pleasure.

Hamzah seems to become self aware all at once, post-nut clarity hitting him as he lets go of your head quickly and spouts apologies just as fast. You don’t let him wallow in embarrassment for too long, reaching up to press a light kiss to his animated lips.

“Don’t be sorry.”

He smiles shyly, “Ok.”

[reminiscingtonight]

Guilty

Lia Wälti x Russo!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: Tis the season for sequels. Featuring a lot of Kyra and Alessia and not so much of Lia

[The Thing About Families Masterlist]

You should have known better than to trust her. 

There’s a reason Steph’s always more than happy to drop Kyra off on your doorstep whenever camp’s over.

There’s a reason Mini looks like she’s gained five years every time the younger girl has been granted privileges to “babysit” her two kids. 

You have a million reasons to not trust her yet you did. 

Why did you trust Kyra with the ring?

Your knuckles are nearly white as you drag the young girl into a nearby unoccupied conference room. Kyra’s looking apologetically guilty, but a delirious haze is starting to take over you. It’s a mixture of horror and disbelief, but at the bottom of it all, you feel beyond stupid.

“What do you mean you lost it?!”

Kyra looks like she’s moments away from crying, but you can’t find it in yourself to be compassionate. You can console her later. Right now you need to get to the bottom of this and try to salvage your relationship with your girlfriend first. 

“I swear it was stashed at the bottom of my drawer but it just wasn’t there when I looked this morning.”

“Well where did you put it?”

“I never moved it! Someone must have taken it.”

You pinch your eyes shut, praying to whatever soccer gods that are above that this was just a cruel joke. This wasn’t really happening and you weren’t about to postpone all the plans you’ve spent months working on. “Kyra, I am begging you not to do this. What am I supposed to do? The dinner’s been booked! The restaurant knows I’m proposing!”

“We can get you a new one! I’ll front it, I swear.”

Forget Kyra crying, you’re going to cry. 

“Unless you’re willing to shell out five grand in the next few hours, I don’t think ‘buying me a new’ one will work.”

The young Australian’s eyes bulge out at the sound of how much you spent on Lia’s ring. 

It’s not a well kept secret that you were going to propose. You and Lia have been together for years now, married in every way except for the official one. Wedding plans have already been discussed, from venues to food to the invitation list. The last thing you actually had to do was the actual proposing and getting married parts.

Though with the ways things are going, you’re not sure you’re going to get married anytime soon. 

There’s a knock on the door but you ignore it, pacing back and forth as your mind races. There’s not really much you can do at this point. The place you got Lia’s ring custom made at is already closed at this time of day, and your girlfriend deserves something better than a last minute generic engagement ring. 

A flash of blonde enters your peripheral just as you make your decision.

“Okay. I think I’ve got a plan.”

“Oh I’ve been looking for you guys--”

“Now’s not a good time, Less,” you wave your sister off, not even bothering to pay her any attention. “Okay Kyra, listen closely because I won’t repeat myself.”

The younger girl nods, determination painted all over her features. 

“I’ll cancel the reservations. That’ll buy me a couple days.”

“Guys--”

“Less. Not a good time,” You repeat, shuffling to turn your back to her to ensure Alessia can’t interrupt again. “The jeweler still has the plans I sent him. I can probably get Gio and Luca to lend me some money, but you have to find where you stashed that ring, Kyra. It wasn’t cheap.”

“About the ring--”

“Not now Alessia!” This time your and Kyra’s voices blend together, neither of you willing to give Alessia a minute of your days. 

She lets out an offended huff and you have half a mind to just strangle her right here and now, your mother’s feelings be damned. 

Gritting your teeth you turn around, not really happy to have to find out what your sister wants. She has free reign to bother you at any minute of any day but why was she so insistent on doing so right now? “What could possibly be so important, you impatient piece of--”

You cut off suddenly, eyes doubling in size when you look down at her hands. 

There’s a velvet box clutched between her perfectly manicured nails, the tiny thing sitting there like it’s mocking you for losing your temper earlier. 

“That’s my--”

“The ring! But-- but--”

“Where’d you find it?”

“Oh god, Lessi I could kiss you, you just saved my ass--” Kyra breaks off, something clicking in her brain. “Wait, where did you find it?”

There’s a slight pause as you wait for Alessia’s answer. 

“Err… so funny story.” She blows out a breath of air, trying her best to look nonchalant. “I might have been-- actually Kyra hid…” Alessia fidgets, not liking the crease that was growing deeper and deeper between your brows. “IwantedtoprankKyraaftersheprankedmesoItooktheringthelasttimeIvisited.”

She slams her mouth shut the second the words are uttered, but no one says a word. 

An uncomfortable tension settles into the room and Alessia does her best not to wilt to the ground. 

You stare at her.

Kyra stares at her.

Alessia stares at a spot past your faces, nervously shuffling under the weight of your gazes.

There’s no mistaking icy stare or the clenched jaw that proved you caught every word of her fastball confession. 

“You… What?” There’s an edge to your voice, a tone Alessia rarely was at the end of growing up, but one that she recognizes all the same. The order there is clear, but Alessia’s not so sure she wants to repeat herself out of self preservation.

She shrinks, suddenly wishing she wasn’t so tall. “Um. Well. So Kyra hid my earrings the other day, and I, uh, I thought hiding this would be a funny way to prank her back?” Alessia cringes, not liking the way this all sounds now that she’s saying it out loud. “But judging by the looks on your faces, I’m going to say otherwise.”

Your nose flares but that’s the only response she’s given. 

Kyra looks grumpy, probably the result of taking your misplaced anger from earlier. 

You hold out your hand.

No words are exchanged but Alessia is quick to drop the box into your hand. 

Just as quick as she darts forward to do so, she jumps back, shoving her now empty hands into her pockets. 

“See, no hurt no foul, right?”

Crickets. 

That’s all Alessia hears as she nervously chuckles. 

Neither you nor Kyra have moved, faces giving nothing away. 

At least not until you call the Australian’s name calmly, eyes never leaving your sister’s.

Alessia watches as the two of you slowly peel away from each other. Her eyes keep darting between the two of you, feeling more and more like prey that’s being stalked as the seconds tick by. “Guys, c’mon–”

“Remember how I told you to play nice with my only sister?”

Kyra’s frowning. It’s probably supposed to come off frightening but she looks too much like a kicked dog for it to really do too much.

But the look on your face… yeah, that was intimidating enough for the two of you.

“Forget everything I’ve ever said. I don’t have a sister.”

Alessia gulps.

“Get her.”

She bolts.

[twstfanblog]

Hi, if requests are still open, I was wondering if you could do one with Sebek where the he and the reader/ yuu are just talking about books, and Sebek sorta forgets that we/ yuu aren't from twisted wonderland and asks us how we've never heard of some really popular book, before having to be reminded about that fact when reader/ yuu just gives him a look that say "I'm not from here," and just back tracking with an apology, because we all know he would apologise profusely for forgetting something like that, and just something really fluffy where the two of them are in the library in the town near the school on the weekend.

If not, that's totally okay. Have a good day/ night and drink some water.💚💚💚💚

Library Date

Sebek x Reader

While the NRC library was much bigger than the local library of Sage Town, it was still the perfect location for the prefect and Sebek's reading dates. Every third weekend, they would get dressed in casual clothing and take the long bus ride down the mountain. A quick walk around the downtown area, a trip to the boba shop, and ending in a reserved private reading room until the last bus back to NRC came.

They would spend hours in comfortable silence together, reading through their tall book piles. While Sebek was delighted by fictional scandals of lords and ladies, the prefect normally chose non-fiction or educational books about the world around them. Though, on this library date, Sebek had proposed they do a genre switch.

The book the prefect had picked was informational; an etiquette guide of various dining customs around the world. He's not sure when he would ever use the knowledge, but any and all information he gained as Malleus’s retainer was nothing but helpful. He looked up from the text, a smile on his face that quickly fell at seeing the prefect's expression.

"Dear? Are you okay?" He looked at the cover of the book in their hands, brows furrowed, "Do you not like it...?"

"I do. It's just...I guess I'm confused? I'm halfway through, but people keep getting introduced, and I have no idea who any of them are. Like, this ship just appeared, and everyone got super excited, and then the next chapter happened. And suddenly, this James character is there? Who is that?"

"..." Sebek's face pinches together, his expression befuddled, "Captain James Hook? The pirate captain who ferries travelers to the second star to the right? How do you not know about him? He's a well-known figure in children's literature!"

The prefect sat, blinking nonchalantly as Sebek went on and on about the disservice of their choices in reading material. They leaned back in their chair, hands folding in front of them as he entered into a passionate speech on the many bedtime stories about Captain James and his pirate-like adventures.

A librarian has leaned their head in, angrily shushing Sebek who nearly shushed back. It wasn't enough to stop his rant, but his voice lowered considerably.

Sighing, Sebek shook his head, "Honestly, dear, how do you not know of him? Even Silver and I were read his books in the remote lands of Briar Valley-"

"Sebek, what's the name of my hometown?"

"..." The half-fae pulled a confused look, but seeing how deadpanned his partner was he thought it over. The name of Yuu's hometown was simple to pronounce, yet hard to remember. The names of places from their world were so odd yet familiar that it-

...

The tips of Sebek's ears started to turn red. Taking a deep breath, he picked his book back up and hid his face within the pages, "...Sorry."

"It's ok."

"I forgot."

"I assumed as much."

"I shouldn't have yelled at you."

"No, you shouldn't have." The Prefect reached across the table, gently tucking their fingers between Sebek's iron grip and the book cover as a way to hold his hand, "But I forgive you because I love you."

Sebek's red face peaked from behind the book, a small, goofy smile spreading his lips, "Thank you..."

"Though, to be fair. We do have Captain Hook in my world too."

"Wait, what?"

[moonstruckme]

hi mae! i totally understand,, I really don't mind you sitting the fic with any other marauders/ ships,, honestly whichever you're most comfortable with is perfect! (after a right therapy session request)

Thanks lovely!

cw: modern au, reader is in teletherapy

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 554 words

Remus tries to give you privacy during your therapy sessions. Through the barrier of your closed bedroom door, he can occasionally make out voices but not words, your therapist’s thoughtful tones crackling through the speaker of your laptop. He leaves you be in there for as long as you want. Your sessions only last an hour, but sometimes you like to be by yourself beforehand to collect your thoughts, or sit on the bed a while afterward letting what you’ve discussed sink in. Today, it’s only a few moments after the low hum of voices stops that you come to him. 

The bedroom door clicks open. Quiet footfalls in the hallway, and when Remus looks up you’re walking towards him on the sofa with tearstains on your cheeks. 

“Hi.” He sets his laptop aside quickly, surprised but knowing what you want. You fold yourself into his lap, and Remus curls his arms around you. “Hi, lovely. Everything okay?” 

You nod against his shoulder. “I’m okay.” A quiet sniffle. Remus tucks you in closer. “I’m supposed to, like, feel my feelings or some shit.” 

“Oh, well that’s just not right.” He kisses your head, feeling the beginnings of dampness seeping into his shirt. “What a cruel assignment.” 

“Yeah, Mary’s got all sorts of kooky ideas.” Your voice is bittersweet, but there’s an edge of humor there that makes Remus’ lips tug instinctively. “Stuff about letting you support me, too. Crazy things like that.” 

“Can’t say I’m quite so opposed to that one.” 

“No, I thought you might be on her side there.” 

“I’m always on your side,” he says, genuinely, though the squeeze he gives you is teasing. You’re quiet for a few moments. Still weeping. Remus lays his cheek on top of your head. “Was it a rough one today, then?” 

Another heart-wrenching sniffle. “Yeah.” 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” 

“It’s okay. I know it’s supposed to be good for me in the long run, or whatever.” 

“I think it already is good for you. I’m sure it’s difficult, but it’s nice to see you thinking more about these things. And making changes.” 

“Yeah. Thanks.” 

Remus turns his head briefly to kiss your hair before settling in again. He’ll hold you as long as you let him. 

“Better fucking pay off, though.” 

A laugh startles out of him. Remus thinks that’s what you wanted. He can practically feel your smile curving against his shoulder. 

“Come here,” he says. 

You pull away, and sure enough, your watery eyes are paired with a watery grin. Remus tsks, brushing the wetness from your cheeks with his thumbs. More tears well. 

“Sorry,” you laugh, as one spills down and Remus chases after it diligently. 

“I wish you wouldn’t be,” he mumbles. “For what, lovely?” 

“I never used to cry this much before stupid therapy.” 

He hums, kissing the next tear before it gets midway down your cheek. “I think that means it’s working.” 

“Yeah, I know. What a bullshit system, right?” 

“Total bullshit. Can I confess something selfish, though?” 

“Mhm. Go ahead.” 

“I like that you came to me.” 

Your face pinches cruelly. You hug him again, hiding your face in his neck. “Thank you.” 

“I mean it, dove. Thank you. I’m proud of you.” 

“You’re going to make me cry again.” 

“That’s alright. I think we can handle it.”

[ar-agon]

TikTok

So branching out some more on writing but I got inspo for a fic and I thought I'd give in a try- Ar

Summary: Inspired by @alnilaem post about TikToker reader and grumpy-looking Simon Riley. Reader is described using fem pronouns.

Length: 1276

You gained a following on TikTok due to making easy meals and baking cakes. You also always wore dresses and hand-made embroidered aprons while making your videos, giving all your videos a warm, homey vibe. It was what some of your viewers called your aesthetic, a lovely housewife. You didn’t mind it too much, given you were a stay-at-home wife. Your husband Simon worked construction, and that brought in enough to pay for everything, and the little you got from your videos helped cushion whatever else you wanted. Simon never showed up in your videos, either letting you have reign of the kitchen or him being at work while you filmed. 

You decided for today’s video to hop on the “pack my husband’s lunch with me” trend. So you began the video as you always do, “Hey, everyone, I am doing something new today. So, we are going to be packing my husband’s lunch today.” You smile at the camera as you start making Simon two roast beef sandwiches. “He's not very picky when it comes to food, but he certainly doesn’t like anything super fancy for lunch,” you say as you continue to pack his lunch. You hum to yourself as you make the sandwiches, placing them in a plastic bag. You then grab a small container and fill it with grapes, placing it in the bag as well. You then grab a small thermos and fill it with coffee, placing it in the bag as well. You then grab a small bag of chips and place it in the bag, sealing it up. You then grab a small notebook and pen and write a small note, placing it in the bag as well. “And there it is, my husband’s lunch.” The camera pans over the lunchbox before the video ends. 

You posted the video without watching it fully. If you had, you would have noticed Simon in the background. You knew your husband looked mean all huge and muscular. He was also wearing one of his work shirts that was covered in paint splatter. You had tried your hardest to get most of it out when you washed them, but you never truly succeeded. Simon was handsome but always had a resting mad face. So, when you looked at the comments and noticed a bunch of people asking you if you were okay, you knew that your rough-looking husband had made an appearance. 

“Close your fist with your thumb inside if you're not safe,” You read one of the comments out loud to Simon as you cuddled on the couch, watching movies.

“What?” he asked.

“My comments from my packing your lunch video. They’re filled with people asking me if I’m okay.”

Simon snorts and laughs, pulling you closer. "You should know by now that people are always worried about you. But I'm sure they're just seeing my face and getting confused." Simon was a large man, always wearing paint covered clothes and always looking grumpy, even if he was in a good mood.

“Maybe I should do a video about you?” you ask as she scrolls through more and more worried comments. “Just because you’re bigger than me and look mean doesn’t mean I’m in any danger.”

“I don’t know you might be,” Simon laughs as he pinches your side.

“Si, I’m serious,” you squeak softly as you push his hand away, “they think you’re forcing me to stay home.”

Simon looks at you in shock, then rolls his eyes jokingly and lets out a fake gasp. “But what else can a brute like myself do except keep a tiny and very beautiful wife at home?” He asks in mock shock, and he pinches you again softly, knowing how ticklish you really were when you let your guard down.

“Stop it,” you giggle, pushing his hand away again, “you’re not helping your case right now.”

“Maybe I don’t want to,” he states as he kisses your cheek, “fine, make the video if you must, but I doubt it will change much.”

“Blink twice in the next video if you need help. This is getting ridiculous.”

"Sure whatever you say dear," Simon teases, before grabbing your chin and making you pay attention to him. "But please know that I love you and wouldn't make you do anything you didn't want to," he added a gentle, teasing smirk growing before pulling you on to his lap. 

“I know, Si,” you sigh softly, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Mrs. Riley,” he grinned before pulling you into a kiss. 

The next day, you decided to make the video while making one of Simon’s favorite cakes.

  The video starts with you standing in your kitchen, dressed up in one of your many dresses with a hand embroidered apron on. You smile at the camera, looking pretty in your quaint kitchen as you begin to speak. "Hey, everybody! It's me again," you greeted your phone camera, "today I'm making a special cake for my husband. It's one of his favorite, so I thought I'd share it with you."

Simon is seen sitting across the kitchen counter, reading a novel and occasionally glancing up.

“He likes them very rich, so we are making a dark chocolate with caramel filling and white chocolate flakes on top,” you state as you begin to prepare that batter. “So, I also wanted to address the very nice and worried comments about me. My husband may look mean, but I can assure you all that he is just a big ol’ teddy bear.”

You started to stir the batter together. “He doesn’t keep me at home, I like making videos and baking for all of you. So, I have made it my full-time job. I used to work in an office, but now that there are so many of you who enjoy watching me bake and cook, well, I am really grateful for all of you.”

Simon watched with amusement as you made cakes and defended him from strangers on the internet who were convinced he was keeping his wife chained to a stove.  He chuckled and then added a remark. 

"You always said you hated that job anyway,” Simon said, finally pulling his gaze away from his book to glance in your direction. You had always loved being a homemaker, but back in you office days, there was definitely no shortage of complaints.

“I did but thanks to you guys,” you said addressing the audience in the video, “I can finally do something that I love.” You pause the video so you could cut to when the cake was baked and cool before decorating.

“Do you think that will go over well? That they’ll believe me?” you place the cake batter into the oven.

Simon closes his book and gets up from his seat, coming up behind you to wrap his arms around you. "They better believe us," he mutters into your ear, "don't want people thinking that I abuse my poor wife." He gently kisses your neck before letting you out of his grip. 

“I’m sure some will still think so but I’m just glad to have you around, Mr. Riley,” you tell him.

“As am I my little housewife,” he says pulling you close.

You finish the cake and the video before posting it to you viewers to see. There's a couple of worried comments, but most of the comments range from "Aw, that's adorable," to "See? Told you guys he wasn't such a brute."

Simon leans over your shoulder, looking at the comments. "Told you they would believe us," he says with a teasing smirk.

“I know,” you smile.

[kittenisstarstruck]

They Lost Their Drunk Partner at a Party

these hotties lost their heavily intoxicated s/o at a party~

id recommend you stay and read until tsukishima at the end, it got me good- i got it soooooo good

Akaashi:

Akaashi wasn’t the type to panic, but right now? Yeah, he was definitely panicking.

The party was crowded, music thumping through the floorboards as people weaved between each other, laughing and shouting over the noise. And somewhere in this chaos, you—his very drunk significant other—had managed to slip away from his side.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he scanned the room for what felt like the hundredth time. How had he even let you wander off? One second, you were clinging to his arm, giggling about something ridiculous, and the next, poof—gone.

He checked the kitchen. Not there. The backyard? Nope. The couch? Just a pile of people deep in a debate about conspiracy theories.

Akaashi exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Where are you…” he muttered under his breath.

Then, finally, in the dim glow of fairy lights strung up in the corner of the room, he spotted you.

You were curled up in an oversized armchair, legs tucked under you, sipping on a half-empty cup of what he could only assume was your last drink of the night. Your eyes were slightly hazy, but the second they landed on him, they lit up.

“Keiji!” You beamed, holding your arms out dramatically. “You found me!”

Akaashi let out a soft chuckle, making his way toward you. “You make it sound like we were playing hide and seek,” he murmured, crouching beside you.

You hummed, tilting your head. “Well… weren’t we?”

He sighed but couldn’t help smiling as he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You scared me for a second.”

Your expression softened at that, and you wobbled forward slightly, wrapping your arms around his neck. “M’sorry,” you mumbled against his shoulder. “Didn’t mean to disappear.”

His hands came up instinctively, one resting on your back while the other cradled your head. “Just stay where I can see you next time, okay?”

You nodded, nuzzling closer, and Akaashi swore his heart melted right then and there.

After a moment, you pulled back just enough to look at him, your gaze softer now. “Keiji, you’re really pretty, you know that?”

He blinked, his ears instantly burning. “You’re drunk.”

“I’m right,” you corrected, poking his cheek. “And I love you.”

Akaashi’s breath caught for just a second, but then he exhaled, his lips curling into the gentlest smile. “I love you too.”

You beamed, pleased with yourself, and Akaashi decided that, even if you were a handful when drunk, he’d search a thousand crowded rooms just to find you again.

“Come on,” he said, effortlessly lifting you from the chair. “Let’s get you home.”

You giggled, snuggling into his chest. “You’re the best.”

Akaashi only hummed, holding you a little closer as he led you away from the noise, away from the chaos—back to where you belonged, right by his side.

Kuroo prided himself on being laid-back, the type to go with the flow, never too ruffled by anything. But right now? He was definitely ruffled.

You had disappeared.

One second, you were right beside him, laughing at some dumb joke he made, your fingers loosely intertwined with his. The next? Gone. Vanished into the sea of bodies, swallowed up by the pulsing music and dim lighting.

He had done a quick scan of the house, expecting to spot you near the drinks or chatting with a mutual friend, but when you were nowhere to be found, a pit of unease settled deep in his chest. His mind was already running through worst-case scenarios as he pushed through the crowd, his teasing smirk long gone.

But then—

In a quiet hallway, away from the chaos, he finally saw you.

You were sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, a dopey, drunk smile on your face as you giggled to yourself. Relief hit him so fast it nearly made him dizzy.

Kuroo sighed, running a hand through his hair before stepping closer. “There you are. I was about to put out a missing persons report.”

You looked up, eyes lighting up the second you saw him. “Tetsu!” you cheered, holding your arms out dramatically. “I found you!”

He huffed out a laugh, crouching in front of you. “You found me? Babe, you’re the one who disappeared.”

You pouted. “Did I? I just… walked away for a second.”

“Yeah? And that ‘second’ turned into twenty minutes of me wondering if I was about to throw hands with some drunk idiot who thought they could steal you away.” He reached out, brushing his fingers against your cheek as if to reassure himself you were really there.

You leaned into his touch, humming contentedly. “Aww, Tetsu, were you worried?”

His fingers twitched, and for a moment, his usual cocky mask slipped. “…Of course, I was,” he muttered, voice barely above a whisper.

But then—before you could call him out on his rare display of vulnerability—he flicked your forehead lightly, his smirk snapping back into place.

“Do you know how embarrassing it would’ve been if I had to tell everyone my incredibly attractive, slightly reckless partner managed to get lost at a house party?” He tsked, shaking his head. “I’d never live it down.”

You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. “M’sorry,” you murmured, nuzzling into his shoulder. “Didn’t mean to make you worry.”

Kuroo sighed, his grip on you tightening. “Just… stay close next time, yeah?” His voice was softer now, laced with something real, something unshakable.

You smiled, pressing a lazy kiss to his jaw. “Okay.”

He exhaled, shaking his head as he hoisted you up into his arms effortlessly. “Alright, lightweight, let’s get you home before you go missing again.”

You snuggled into his chest, sighing happily. “You’re the best.”

Kuroo smirked, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t scare me like that again, trouble.”

But as he carried you out of the party, holding you like you were the most precious thing in the world, you knew the truth—Kuroo might joke about it, might tease, but deep down, he’d search anywhere for you. Always.

Bokuto had been having a great time at the party—laughing with friends, downing drinks, hyping up strangers like they were long-lost teammates—until he realized something was missing.

You.

One second, you were by his side, giggling at his ridiculous dance moves, your hand clutching his sleeve as you swayed along with him. The next? Gone.

At first, he didn’t panic. Maybe you’d gone to the bathroom or grabbed another drink. No big deal. But when five minutes turned into ten, and then fifteen, his stomach twisted uncomfortably.

His mind started racing—What if you were too drunk? What if you got lost? What if some creep was bothering you?—and suddenly, the party wasn’t fun anymore.

Bokuto weaved through the crowd, his usual loud energy dimmed by the gnawing worry in his chest. He checked the kitchen, the backyard, even peeked into a random closet (just in case).

Then, finally, in a quiet corner near the stairs, he spotted you.

You were sitting on the floor, head tilted back against the wall, a lazy, tipsy smile on your face as you stared at the ceiling. Your drink—mostly melted ice at this point—was resting precariously between your fingers, dangerously close to spilling.

Bokuto let out a deep breath, relief flooding him so fast that he nearly dropped to the floor beside you. Instead, he crouched, placing a gentle hand on your knee.

“There you are,” he murmured, voice softer than usual. “You okay, baby?”

Your eyes lit up the second you saw him, your grin widening. “Bo! I was just thinking about you!”

His brows furrowed, still searching your face for any signs of distress. “Yeah?”

“Mhm.” You nodded, lifting a wobbly finger to poke his cheek. “I was wondering where you went.”

Bokuto huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “I was looking for you, babe. You kinda disappeared on me.”

You blinked, like the thought had never even occurred to you. “Oh.” Then you giggled. “Oops.”

Bokuto sighed, running a hand through his hair. You were clearly very drunk, and as much as he wanted to scold you for wandering off, he couldn’t bring himself to. Not when you were looking at him like he hung the moon.

Instead, he leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours with a dramatic pout. “You worried me, y’know.”

You reached up, tracing the furrow between his brows with your thumb. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know,” he murmured, closing his eyes for a second before pulling back. “Guess I’ll just have to keep an extra close eye on you now.”

Before you could ask what he meant, he suddenly scooped you up in his arms, standing to his full height with ease.

You gasped, arms wrapping around his neck instinctively. “Bo!”

He grinned down at you, any remaining worry melting into mischief. “Since you had me running around looking for you, I think it’s only fair that you pay me back…”

You raised a brow. “And how exactly am I supposed to do that?”

Bokuto’s grin widened as he started walking—straight toward the center of the dance floor.

“By dancing with me, of course!”

Before you could protest, he spun you effortlessly, earning a squeal of laughter as he twirled you under the flashing lights. The music thumped around you, the party roaring back to life, but all you could focus on was the way Bokuto’s arms tightened around you, his eyes bright and full of love.

Maybe you had gotten lost, but somehow, you always ended up right where you belonged.

Tsukishima didn’t love parties. Too loud, too crowded, too many people acting like idiots. But he could tolerate them—for you.

He had been keeping an eye on you from across the room, letting you do your thing while he leaned against the wall, nursing his drink. But when he glanced over and saw you stiffen, your expression shifting from tipsy amusement to discomfort, his blood ran cold.

Some guy—some idiot—was way too close, leaning into your space, his hand hovering near your waist like he had any right to be there.

Tsukishima’s grip on his drink tightened. Seriously? He was right there, and this guy still had the nerve?

Annoyance flickered into something sharper, something dangerous as he pushed off the wall, making his way through the crowd with slow, deliberate steps.

He didn’t say anything at first—just slipped an arm around your shoulders, tugging you firmly into his side. His touch was casual, but his grip? Solid. Protective.

“Hey, babe,” he drawled, shooting the creep a deadpan look. “There you are. You ready to go?”

You blinked up at him, relief flashing in your eyes as you quickly caught on. “Y-Yeah.” You leaned into him, and he could feel how tense you were.

The guy had the audacity to scoff. “Oh, this is your boyfriend?” He let out a mocking laugh, clearly unimpressed. “Didn’t think you’d go for the quiet, moody type.”

Tsukishima’s golden eyes narrowed, his jaw ticking. He tilted his head slightly, feigning disinterest, but his next words came out cold, sharp as glass.

“And I didn’t think you’d be so desperate that you have to corner drunk girls at parties. Guess we’re both full of surprises.”

The guy’s smirk faltered. “What did you just say—”

Tsukishima didn’t even let him finish. He just arched a brow, looking bored. “You heard me. And unless you want me to embarrass you even more in front of everyone, I suggest you walk away.”

A tense beat passed, but then—like the pathetic coward he was—the guy scoffed, muttered something under his breath, and slinked off.

Tsukishima rolled his eyes, already turning his attention back to you. “Come on,” he murmured, steering you toward the back door. “You need air.”

—

The night was cooler outside, the music inside muffled by the closed door. You exhaled shakily, still coming down from the adrenaline.

Tsukishima didn’t say anything—just shrugged off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders before leaning against the railing beside you.

You glanced at him, surprised by the quiet gesture. “…Thanks, Kei.”

He scoffed, looking away like it was no big deal. “Don’t mention it.”

Silence settled between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it felt… grounding. His presence alone was enough to calm the lingering unease in your chest.

After a moment, you leaned your head against his shoulder. He stiffened for half a second before sighing and relaxing into it, letting you stay close.

“You okay?” he murmured.

You nodded. “Better now.”

He hummed, his fingers brushing against yours before—very casually—he intertwined them.

“You really put yourself in the dumbest situations,” he muttered, his tone teasing but laced with something softer.

You smiled, squeezing his hand. “Good thing I’ve got you, huh?”

He rolled his eyes, but you didn’t miss the way his thumb absentmindedly traced over your knuckles, keeping you right where he wanted you—close.

Always close.

[yearsbecomingcool]

meet the parents | daniel markowitz

donate to gaza here | masterlist

pairing | daniel markowitz x f!reader

synopsis | after 3 months of dating daniel finally introduces you to his parents and invites you to spend the eighth night of hanukkah with his family.

warnings | f!reader, jewish!reader, fluff.

word count | 4.4k

a/n | i wanna give a huge thank you to @kawaii1kitten for reading over this for me to make sure everything was accurate, it meant so much for someone to offer up their time like that and it was greatly appreciated. i got this request back at the end of january but have been incredibly busy since then (21st birthday, trying to get my license, new season of yellowjackets, writing a 7.6k word fic about jason from hell of a summer that you should all read…) but i did also take some time to research hanukkah for this fic. if anything is falsely represented or you think could be portrayed differently please let me know and i can fix any mistakes made! thank you so much for the request and hopefully it came out to your liking. also thank you to @joeloverture as always for reading over this and giving me input!!

taglist | @snazzynacho

You had been dating Danny for three months and somehow still hadn’t met his family, it wasn’t the most unusual thing in the world but you couldn’t help but feel a little suspicious. You would always hang out at your house, never at his. He always made an excuse about a messy room or someone working from home that day and you were beginning to feel a bit fed up with it. Today he was picking you up for a date, a trip to the movies. You heard his horn go off and ran outside, hopping into the passenger seat. You lean over and give him a quick peck, “You look cute today, scruffy, but cute.” You caress his cheek, looking at him lovingly.

He blushes, leaning into your touch like a cat. “So you don’t want me to shave?”

“Not yet…I’ll be generous and give you another week,” you tease, pinching the pale flesh of his cheek between your thumb and forefinger. He giggles and pulls away from you, he backs out of your driveway and starts to head towards the theater. 

You could save your questioning till after the movie, make it easier on both of you, but you’ve never been known to choose the easy route. You decide to come right out with it, “Why haven’t you introduced me to your family yet?”

He coughs nervously, “W-What?”

“Your family. You haven’t introduced me to them at all, you haven’t even brought me over to your house. We always just go to mine. There has to be a reason, so tell me Danny, what is it?”

His face grows hot and he swallows nervously. “I-It just hasn’t been the right time…they’re always busy. Y’know…I just…”

“You hardly talk about any of them besides your grandma, who sounds lovely by the way. But it just feels weird, if you have a bad relationship with them I’ll drop it but I’m just curious about your family. It feels like you’re hiding me from them and vice versa,” you explain.

He sighs, “My parents are just…a lot, okay? They still treat me like I’m a kid, hell my mom still has Life-360 installed on my phone.”

You giggle, “Were you a bad kid in high school or something?”

He laughs, “The furthest from it actually. I hardly went out, never went to parties, never did drugs. I was a good kid, my parents just…they’re intense and I know they care but they don’t really treat me like an adult yet. I didn’t want to scare you away or have you think I’m some Norman Bates mommy’s boy, I just want you to like me.”

“I already like you, dork. Do you think I’d be going out with you for three months if I didn’t like you? I’m certainly not dating you for your car.”

“But you could be dating me for my money,” he jokes.

“I’m practically your sugar mommy, mr. unemployed, I don’t wanna hear it.” 

“Okay…okay, I get it, you do actually like me. But are you sure you wanna meet my parents?”

“Yes! C’mon, let them get the embarrassing stage out of the way already. I’ll come over and bring them some nice wine and nod politely while they show me baby pictures and tell me embarrassing stories about you from your childhood. Doesn’t that sound nice?” You’re trying your hardest to convince him.

“It sounds better without them embarrassing me but I guess it could be worse…why don’t you come over for the final night of Hanukkah, it’s the one day this week where both my parents are off work so they won’t be super stressed or anything. We’re doing it at my grandmas so you’ll get to meet her too,” he suggests, finally giving in.

“I finally get to meet the famous Thelma Post you’ve been telling me about!” You celebrate.

“I’ve told her all about you too, she’s been asking when she can meet you.” He starts to poorly imitate his grandma, “Danny I’ll have one foot in the grave before you bring her over to see me!” You both burst into laughter at his imitation. “Don’t tell her I did that…please…”

You hold your pinky up, “Pinky promise.”

It’s the eighth day of Hanukkah and Daniel had come over to your place to help you cook, he insisted that you didn’t need to bring anything but you were determined to make a good impression. He’d been here for a few hours helping you make sufganiyot, normally his mom would make some but she was more than happy to leave that task up to you once you’d offered. You’d already made the filing the night before, letting it sit in the fridge for a few hours. Danny had been eyeing it as soon as he saw it in the fridge. Once you were done preparing the sufganiyot you’d piped some onto his finger, letting him finally have a taste. He sucks the cream off his finger and moans at the taste, “Fuck this is good. My mom is gonna have one bite of this and ask when I’m putting a ring on your finger, I swear.” 

“And what are you gonna tell her?” You tease, placing a hand on the counter and leaning against it, trying to look seductive.

“That I need an actual job before I can even think of walking into a jewelry store.” 

You roll your eyes and he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you into him to give you a soft kiss. He looks a bit silly, wearing the apron you’d bought him when you’d gone grocery shopping the other day. It had a stupid little slogan that made you cringe on it and you knew it’d be perfect for him. When he’d arrived you held it up for him and he rolled his eyes. “For me?” He teases, holding his hand up to his mouth. You smacked him with a dish towel. 

While you went to get cleaned up and changed for the party Danny lounged on the small couch in your living room, flicking through the channels. He was grateful the SY-FY channel was still playing shitty horror movies this time of year. He’d gotten about halfway through Sharknado when you came out into the living room ready to go. You’d done natural makeup, some soft smoked out eyeliner and some lip gloss. You were dressed casual but cute, wearing a dark blue sweater and some black jeans. Danny sits up from the couch and smiles as his eyes rake over you, “You look great.”

“You’re so sweet to me, Danny. C’mere.” You outstretch your hand to him, pulling him up from the couch and into your arms to give him a soft kiss on the cheek. He grabs the wine off the counter and you grab your tray of sufganiyot and he opens the front door for you, locking it up before opening the passenger door for you. As you sit in the car on the way to his grandma's condo your knee bounces up and down, a nervous tick that you’ve had for years. Danny notices and places his hand on your thigh.

“It’s gonna be okay, I promise. I should be freaking out more than you, I have no idea what  embarrassing shit they’re gonna tell you tonight!” 

“I really hope they have a whole scrapbook for me to look at. I wanna see every embarrassing school photo, your awkward prom pictures, your cute little baby pictures.”

He groans, “Your parents didn’t show me any of that for you though!”

You laugh, “Uh yeah because I told them I’d never come back home again if they did.”

“You’re mean.”

“I’m not mean…I just know how to get what I want.”

He narrows his eyes but keeps them on the road, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Your hands are trembling when you get to his grandma's condo, you knew you’d be nervous you just didn’t know you’d be this nervous. “Do you think they’ll like me?”

He chuckles and parks the car, “They’ll love you. You have your shit together, you’re beautiful, you’ve helped me get my shit together I’m pretty sure that’s everything they want in a woman for me.” 

“And if they somehow don’t like me?”

“Then I’m staying with you anyway, I don’t care what they think. I know they’re gonna love you and I know for a fact that my grandma is gonna love you. Before the night is over she’ll be shoving her phone in my hand and demanding I friend you on Facebook for her.” He smiles at you like you’re the only girl he’s ever loved, he means every word he says, he’s not just trying to make you feel better.

“The only approval I need is yours and Thelmas.” He laughs at your joke and leans across the console to kiss you. He cups your face gently. When you pull away he’s smiling like a schoolboy.

Your face contorts in confusion, “What?”

“I just…” He runs his hand through his hair, “I really like you. I’m happy we’re doing this.”

You feel like a lovesick teenager, “Me too.”

Daniel goes around and opens your door, bowing his head as you step out of the car. “You’re such a nerd, you know that, right?”

He smiles at you playfully, “Are you gonna bully me in front of my parents? I don’t think they’ll like that too much. My grandma especially won’t.” 

“Well shit I can’t let Thelma down…”

“Exactly, so be nice!” He kisses your cheek and leads you to the door. He knocks quickly before wrapping his arm around your shoulder. You rest your head against his shoulder as you wait for his parents to open the door. You hear rustling and suddenly the door opens. His mom is standing there with a huge smile on her face. At first glance she doesn’t look much like him, she’s got dark brown hair cut into a neat bob and light green eyes. When she smiles that’s when you see the resemblance. Her tortoiseshell glasses pair nicely with her tan sweater and brown pants. 

“It’s so good to see you two! Come in, come in!” She exclaims, moving aside for the two of you to come in. You follow Daniel inside and kick off your shoes by the door before going into the kitchen to put your sufganiyot down on the counter. There’s already a few dishes sitting out and ready to go. Latkes with a small dish of sour cream sat next to them, fried bimuelos with honey drizzled over top, and some brisket. His mom, Gail, hugs you like she’s known you her whole life. 

“Danny has told us so much about you, I was wondering when he would finally introduce you,” she says, nudging him playfully with her elbow. He looks down at the floor bashfully.

“I guess I didn’t realize everyone was so…eager to meet.”

“Well with how you talked about her we all wanted to finally see the lovely girl. How are you?” His father, Alan, comes up behind Danny and outstretches his hand to you. You shake his hand and smile politely. 

“I’m great, Danny takes the best care of me. You’ve raised a wonderful son.”

Daniel looks down blushing again, he does this every time you praise him. It’s something he’ll never get used to. 

You take a second to look around the room, her kitchen reminds you so much of your grandma’s house. The only word you can think of for it is cozy. She has an array of plants all over the kitchen, some are sat on the windowsill above the sink. A few of the bigger ones sit on a white metal shelf populated by some cutesy glassware and a couple cookbooks. You feel right at home. You grab the wine from Daniel and present it to his parents, “I wasn’t sure what kind you would like so I hope this is okay.”

They take the bottle and inspect it, “It’s perfect.”

His parents thank you and bring you into the small tv nook where Thelma is sitting comfortably on the family's couch. You marvel at the collection of books she’s collected over her lifetime. They sit cozily on her built-in shelves, a modest CRT TV sits at the center. On each side of the couch sits more bookshelves. You can imagine yourself curled up on her orange and white pinstripe couch spending your days working through her collection.  “Grandma, there’s someone I’d like for you to meet.” She turns and smiles as she sees you. She’s quick to get to her feet, walking towards you happily. “Oh honey! Finally! I thought we’d never get to meet at this rate, ah, look at you! Danny you’ve always had good taste but she’s got to be my favorite! Oh just look at her, Danny you make such a cute couple.” Now it’s your turn to blush as Thelma gushes over you. She holds your hands in hers and smiles at you warmly.

“You’re too kind…Danny has said so much about you. I think he’s been hiding me away so I don’t become your new best friend,” you joke, helping Daniel lead her to the front of the house. The house is set up a bit strangely, her main living room is quite spacious, and a bar sits behind one of the floral couches. It’s unused, now displaying various family photos. There’s even more books on more beautiful shelves, you wonder if she’s read them all.

Thelma playfully swats at Daniel's arm, “Have you been hiding her? I always could do with more friends. You know that, Danny.” You admire their menorah as it sits on a white tray on a small table in front of the window, it’s a beautiful gold color, made of brass. It was his parents' wedding gift. A blue table runner sits beneath it.

He giggles, “Can you blame me for wanting to keep her to myself?” The three of you stand together, his parents on either side. 

You watch as his father loads the candles, their matchbook sits on the tray next to the menorah. You watch as his father strikes the match and lights the shamash and begins to recite the blessings. “Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech HaOlam, asher kidshanu b’mitzvotav v’tzivanu l’hadlik ner shel Hanukkah. Baruch Atah Adonai Eloheinu Melech HaOlam, she’asah nisim l’avoteinu, b’yamim haheim bazman hazeh.” Once he’s finished reciting the blessings he lights each candle from left to right and puts the shamash at its place in the center. It makes you think of past Hanukkah celebrations you’d spent with your family, it’s the first year you’re not spending it with them. You have a feeling you can convince Daniel to come to yours next year.

You all head to the kitchen and grab a plate and start to grab your food, you load your plate up happily.

Daniel pours you each a glass of wine, Thelma has water instead. The table is small which makes things a bit cramped but you make it work, you and Daniel sitting close enough that your elbows knock occasionally.

“Was your family alright with you missing out on celebrating with them this year?” Thelma asks as she sips from her glass.

“They understood, they’d like Danny to come to ours next year for a night. They really loved him when they met him.” Daniel squeezes your hand softly.

“Oh of course! Maybe we could all get together next year, have a little party!” She suggests.

“That sounds perfect. I’m sure they’d love to.” 

As you begin to dig into your food you look over at Gail with a sly smirk. “So…what was Danny like as a kid?”Daniel chokes on his wine, his eyes going wide. He didn’t expect you to start asking about this as soon as dinner started.

Gail smiles knowingly at Daniel, she knows just how badly she’s about to embarrass him and she’s going to cherish this moment for as long as it lasts. “Oh he was just precious. Such a sweet smiley little boy,” she takes a sip of her wine, “but he was so shy. I remember on his first day of Kindergarten he was so scared, he wouldn’t let go of my leg. Poor thing…”

“Aww Danny…I was a shy kid too. Maybe not that shy but it took me a while to grow out of it. I remember sitting at a table with a group of other shy kids in English class and we were all supposed to do some project together and I had to pull myself out of my shell for it because none of them wanted to,” you laugh.

“That sounds like Danny. Y’know there was this shy boy in his class when he was younger,” she turns to face Daniel, “Wendy Horowitz’ son, do you remember him?”

Daniel nods. He has no clue who she’s talking about.

“Anyway, he got hooked on Don Julio and he’s been in and out of rehabs ever since. Always made me worried for Danny, you never know what the quiet ones are doing…”

“Well I don’t drink much, I’ll have one if I go out somewhere nice for dinner, but I’m usually the designated driver. Danny doesn’t really have much when we go out either.”

Gail rubs Daniel on the shoulder, “Oh you’re cutting back on the drinking? Good, see Alan she’s already a good influence, only 3 months in!”

Alan smiles, “You did get him to throw out that ratty old cardigan too.”

“There were too many holes for it to be considered wearable at that point. I bought him a nice new one to replace it.”

Daniel blushes, “The new one is softer…”

“He’s always worn his clothes till they were falling apart…I’d always fix them up so he could wear his favorites a bit longer,” Thelma says.

Daniel looks at her with nothing but love in his eyes and smiles,”And thank you for that. You’re why most of my favorite sweaters are still around.” 

Gail chuckles, a memory surfacing. “Do you remember that phase you had where you would only wear your Spider-Man costume? You were like what…six? You wore it everywhere! I remember you even demanded you wear it to school under your clothes.” Daniel's face turns bright red as the rest of you giggle.

“I uh, I think I do remember that,” he scratches the back of his neck nervously.

“That’s cute. I think I did the same with some princess dress my mom had got me.” As fun as it is to watch him squirm with embarrassment you still don’t want him to get too embarrassed. 

The rest of dinner is spent with Gail telling childhood stories about Daniel, most are just cute instead of embarrassing but once dinner is wrapped up is when the embarrassment really starts. Thelma is quick to lead you to her array of childhood photos of Daniel she has on display. You pick up each one, inspecting them closely as he looms over your shoulder, face bright red with embarrassment. “Do you really have to show her the middle school ones? Those are just…they’re bad…” He groans as he pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“Oh but Danny you were so cute! Wasn’t he?” Thelma asks, turning towards you.

You giggle and smile, “The cutest.”

“See! Not embarrassing!” 

Daniel groans and puts his hands over your eyes, he leans down to whisper in your ear, “I think you’ve seen enough.” It’s playful and cute. You giggle and lean back against him.

“I think I wanna see more actually-”

He’s quick to cover your mouth with one of his hands, “She doesn’t know what she’s saying. That wine must’ve been strong, right baby?” He moves his hand from your eyes to your chin, maneuvering your head to make you nod. “See? She’s all good on childhood pictures now, Grandma.”

You lick his palm and he yelps, pulling his hand away. “Don’t listen to him! Show me the worst ones!”

Thelma is doubling over in laughter at the two of you, it reminds her of when she had met her husband. “Oh I’ve got more, sweetheart. Don’t worry.” She heads over to the bookcase to start looking for her photo albums. 

Daniel leans down to whisper in your ear so softly that no one else can hear, “You’re so getting it later. You hear me?”

You giggle, “I’m sure I am, Danny…” He loves to talk a big game but hardly ever follows through. You know it’ll end in giggles and a makeout session on your couch. 

He helps Thelma bring over the photo albums, setting them down onto the coffee table before taking a seat next to you. “You better be nice to me about these.”

“Danny how bad could they be? Don’t be so dramatic, we were all dorky when we were younger.” You rub his shoulder comfortingly. You lean against his arm as he opens the first one. The first page is his mom holding him in the hospital, his tiny footprints next to the photo make you tear up a bit.

Thelma tells a small story with each photo, “He was such a smiley baby. The happiest in the family. I remember Gail called me one time to ask if it was normal for a baby to be so happy all the time,” she laughs, “she’s always been such a worrier…”

“You were adorable Danny, your smile is the same now y’know.”

He leans his head against yours, “Some things never change I guess.”

“I’m glad you’ve still got that sweet smile and all those beauty marks.”

He smiles and presses a kiss to your forehead as you continue to look through the photo albums. His face heats up with embarrassment as they reach the elementary school photos. He’s wearing silly graphic tees and missing teeth, new ones growing back into place. There’s photos of him playing video games, kindergarten and 5th grade graduations. Photos of him with childhood friends and peers, most of the names he can’t remember but he has a story for almost all of them. “He had a pet lizard! I begged my parents, and Grandma of course,” he nudges Thelma with his elbow, “for one too. But when I actually went over to his house and saw it in person it scared me so bad I never asked for another pet again!”

“What kind of lizard was it?” You ask curiously. 

“A bearded one, like that dinosaur in Jurassic Park that ate Nedry.”

Your eyes light up, “Ah! I can see why you’d be terrified now.”

He blushes bright red with embarrassment once the middle school pictures start coming up, awkward phases, bad haircuts, and plenty of embarrassing stories. It’s an awful time for everyone but it seemed particularly cringe inducing for Daniel. You and Thelma stifle laughter as he tries to defend his magician phase with his life.

“The girls were into it I swear!”

“Thelma, did you tell him that to make him feel better?” You ask, leaning forward to see her.

“I think I did…”

Daniel dramatically scoffs, feigning offense at her confession.

“Did you like try to pull a flower out from behind a girl's ear?” You joke.

His cheeks turn pink, “I-I…no…”

He’s a little less defensive over his high school photos, you can see him finding his style in every photo. He’s switched out his silly graphic tees for band t-shirts and cardigans, his cargo shorts for skinny jeans. It’s interesting to watch him figure out who he is through photos. You smile at the photos of him at concerts on his tiptoes trying to peer over the shoulders of the people in front of him. There’s ticket stubs from his favorites glued down next to the photos of him at each one. You can tell you would’ve been friends in high school, probably more considering how you ended up. He was your type to a tee. You could imagine asking him out to see whatever indie movie was playing at your local theatre, him slipping his headphones on you in a diner afterwards to show you his new favorite band. You feel a pang of sadness that you didn’t know him back then. You’re grateful to have him now. You cuddle up a bit closer to him as he gets to the final picture, it’s him on graduation day. His hair was grown out and combed back under his graduation cap. His favorite is the shot of Thelma and him together. He has his arm slung over his shoulder as he holds her close.

“Why don’t we take one of you two to add to the album?” Thelma suggests.

You smile and look at Daniel, trying to see how he feels. He’s smiling just as big as you are and he nods, getting up from the couch. “Where’s the camera?”

“It’s in my office on my desk, right by the computer,” Thelma explains. Once he’s walked off to retrieve the camera she leans close to you, taking your hand in hers. “You’re my favorite of the girls he’s ever brought over. Thank you for being so good to him…I think you’re what he needs.”

You feel tears begin to well up in your eyes, your lip quivering. You reach up to wipe your tears and nod, “I think he’s what I need to.” Thelma leans forward and hugs you tight, you pull away with Daniel comes back with the camera.

“Should I call dad to come take it?” He asks Thelma.

“Oh no, dear. This is the one technology I know how to use!” She gets up from the couch and takes the camera from Daniel, directing him to sit next to you. She continues directing the two of you, telling you how to pose. “Danny at least try to look like you love her! You’re so stiff!”

He chuckles and tries to relax, pulling you closer to him. You’re leaned against him, your head on his shoulder as he holds you close. You glance up at him for a second and hear the camera go off. “Oh, I wasn’t ready!”

Thelma smiles down at the photo, turning the camera back around for the two of you to look. It’s instantly your new favorite photo of the two of you. You’re cuddled up, gazing into each other's eyes. “I think it’s perfect, dear.”

[foggydreamsstuff]

Unspoken Currents

Chapter Two: The Sweetest Curse

Viktor = Blue

Jayce = Purple

Please comment on some suggestions for what should happen. Does anyone appreciate the Czech??

---

The lab was warm. Too warm.

Between the whirring machinery, the hum of hextech, and Jayce practically radiating heat like a human furnace, Viktor felt suffocated.

Or maybe that was just the sickness curling tight in his ribs.

Across the worktable, Jayce was hunched over some prototype, dark curls sticking to his forehead, sleeves shoved up past his elbows, exposing forearms corded with muscle. He muttered to himself in a mix of Spanish and half-formed engineering jargon, completely oblivious to the way Viktor stared, the way his own fingers trembled where they hovered above his calculations.

Viktor swallowed thickly.

Not now. Not now.

Jayce made a triumphant noise. “Alright, I think we’re finally getting somewhere!” He straightened up, wiping grease onto his already ruined shirt. “Vik, pass me the actuator, yeah?”

Viktor barely heard him. Something sharp twisted in his chest, rising fast—faster than he could control. He turned his head sharply, pressing a fist to his lips as he coughed—once, twice—before something soft brushed his tongue.

No.

His stomach clenched. He pulled his trembling hand away from his mouth and stared.

Pale yellow petals.

Honeysuckle.

Viktor exhaled shakily, crushing the delicate bloom in his palm before Jayce could see. His ribs ached, his throat burned, but none of it compared to the raw, open wound of watching Jayce pine after someone else.

Of knowing he would never look at Viktor that way.

“Vik?” Jayce’s voice was closer now. Viktor’s head snapped up just as Jayce reached out, brows knit in concern. “Hey, you okay? You spaced out for a second there.”

Viktor forced a smirk, though it felt paper-thin. “Jsem v pohodě, blbče.”

Jayce gave him a squinty, skeptical look. “That’s suspiciously fast, Czech. Are you sure?”

Viktor held his ground. “Here is the actuator. Are you good now?"

Jayce didn’t move. Instead, his arms crossed, and he gave Viktor that look—the one that meant he was thinking, really thinking. It was rare, but it did happen.

Then, like the world’s slowest realization, Jayce’s eyes narrowed. “…You haven’t eaten today, have you?”

Viktor groaned. “Jayce—”

“Nope!” Jayce was already yanking open a drawer, rummaging through their emergency stash of snacks. “I knew it. You get all weird and twitchy when you’re hungry.”

Viktor pinched the bridge of his nose. “I am not a child, Jayce.”

Jayce turned around, triumphant, holding a squashed protein bar. “Eat this, and I’ll leave you alone.”

Viktor glared. “That is bribery.”

“That is caring,” Jayce corrected, waving the bar in front of his face. “Now eat.”

Viktor sighed, snatching it from his hand just to shut him up. Jayce beamed like he had just solved the greatest mystery of the universe.

"Dobrý kluk." Jayce ruffled Viktor’s curls, and Viktor jerked away, scowling.

“Stop touching me.”

Jayce just laughed, sitting back down. “You’re so grumpy when you’re hungry.”

Viktor unwrapped the protein bar slowly, using the moment to mask the way his chest ached. If only hunger were truly the issue.

Jayce, oblivious as ever, was already back to fiddling with the prototype, tongue peeking out in concentration. “Okay, so if we recalibrate the energy output—”

Viktor clenched his fist, feeling the crushed petals stick to his palm.

---

Jayce didn’t know.

Or maybe he did, and he just didn’t understand.

Viktor wasn’t sure which was worse.

The lab settled into a comfortable hum of clicking tools and low murmurs as Jayce worked. He was always moving, always talking—a force of nature too bright and too loud for Viktor’s world.

And yet, he was the only thing Viktor wanted.

Another cough built in his throat, but he swallowed it down, forcing himself to focus. His hand was still trembling. He pressed his palm flat against the worktable, watching the way his fingers twitched.

The shimmer isn’t helping anymore.

His body was breaking, his ribs felt like they were caving inward, and worst of all—he couldn’t stop loving Jayce.

He had tried. Gods, he had tried.

Every day, he told himself he would let it go. That he would stop looking. Stop yearning. Stop loving Jayce so much it hurt.

And every day, he failed.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, he would love Jayce a little less.

Maybe.

He knew Jayce would be okay with loving a man. As long as that man wasn't Viktor.

[cookies-after-dark]

okay but Shmilk would be such a back seat driver if he let black sapphire cookie fuck reader

“Move ur hand lower”

“They like being pinched there”

kiss em like u mean it cmooon”

and whoes to say he won’t get strings involved and fix their position himself if they keep messing up :3c

okay no wait 💡 you dropped this because that is one hell of a good idea.

(additional tags because I went loopy here: explicit content, unhealthy power dynamics, possessiveness, humiliation, exhibitionism, degradation)

See, my lame ass was just thinking of Shadow Milk Cookie using this as powerplay, you know? Like a, 'my pets are playing with each other!' scenario where Shadow Milk Cookie actually lets one of his minions knock you around a bit in his stead. Let's be honest, Black Sapphire Cookie's been eyeing you up and down since the moment Shadow Milk brought you here! He's such an eager, helpful, obedient little servant! You could learn to be more like him, Shadow Milk Cookie thinks.

And Black Sapphire Cookie is more than willing to show you just where you stand, riiiiight at the bottom of the hierarchy! No one can tell me that little purple ball of lint isn't secretly a dominant control freak who needs to have everything go his........- I mean, master Shadow Milk Cookie's way. You're adorable and endearing enough, but you need to be taught a lesson or two before you go strutting around the Spire, thinking you're all that just because your the master's newest pet.

Hence, this situation. Shadow Milk Cookie sees the most perfect opportunity to humble you and get his rocks off at the same time! Well, he has many ways to do that, but plan in partocular has him hardening in his tights already. Passing you off to an underling really paints the whole picture for you - you belong to the Spire now! You belong here, this is your new home, you won't be going anywhere, and the first thing we'll do to make sure of that is to fuck you on every piece of furniture in sight! Lovely, ain't it?

Shadow Milk Cookie also loves giving you yhe illusion that you can choose - would you rather have your legs be folded over your head whilst Black Sapphire Cookie mercilessly fucks you while recording your moans and squeals through his beloved microphone, spreading rumors all over Earthbread how you're just some hungry, poorly trained slut? Ooooor~ you could play with Shadow Milk Cookie instead! Those are the only two choices by the way, so choose carefully.

So that was my lame ass. But this ask is hysterical because this also makes Shadow Milk Cookie sharing you with anyone else an absolute godawful nightmare. Black Sapphire Cookie would never talk back to his beloved master, but even he must admit it's getting difficult continuing when Shadow Milk stops him every few seconds with some kind of criticism.

"Pfft! Well, of course, only one Cookie on all of Earthbread could handle this task correctly! Even still, you could at least *attempt* to have a bit more tact than that~!"

Because the Reader, his darling little popper, isn't just some common whore. No, they're just a speeeeecial whore, deserving of only the best treatment! Shadow Milk's words (he cannot help but through a dirty little nickname for you in there).

Honestly, the fact that Shadow Milk Cookie loves you just so, so, so, so much should be obvious! So what if his love is a little rough? Sooner or later, he'll have Black Sapphire Cookie show you the pleasure you deserve, as Shadow Milk Cookie's beautiful, lovely little pet!

[biting-miguel-ohara]

Ace - Logan Howlett x ftm!Reader

A/N: so uh, this was written for this request. But um. I really struggle with my own asexuality when it comes to telling people so like, I also wrote this for me. I’m sorry for the angst, I’m um, not having the best time emotionally as of late so I thought I’d write it out

Also, ✨it’s my birthday✨ so here’s my birthday gift to you all

CW: angst, fear, anxiety, Reader is very worried, nausea, Reader is a bunny!mutant, Reader is ftm trans implied, binder mention, major miscommunication, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, Logan has emotions and I make him feel them, Logan is fairly mature in this, break ups, crying, Reader calls themselves a freak, good communication, Logan loves Reader, some cheesy moments, ‘I love you’s, Reader is called buns and handsome by Logan, happy ending

1139 words

You’ve been staring at yourself in the mirror for far too long, but you can’t seem to look away. Maybe if you just look a little longer, you’ll get it. But nothing changes. Your body is just… there.

Soft fluffy ears. Twitchy nose. Eyes. Mouth. Neck. Shoulders. Just… same as ever.

You can hear Logan moving about in the apartment and it finally pulls your gaze slowly away from the mirror. It takes you a long moment, but you pull your towel around you, stepping away from the reflective glass.

You sit on the edge of the tub, staring at the floor instead. You feel… not gross, per se. But your stomach is churning and your heart is in your throat.

This is it.

You’ve put off saying anything for almost a month now. Deflecting and making excuses at every possible turn. But now you have no more left. Nowhere left to run.

You think about saying it. ‘Logan, I’m not really into sex.’ ‘Logan, I’m ace.’ ‘Logan, I’m sorry.’

You curl into yourself, trying to keep down your stomach. Nausea rises in your throat, bile pooling at the back of your mouth.

You want to run. You want to scream. You want to cry. Who’s ever heard of a rabbit who doesn’t like sex? And yet, that’s what you are. A silly, cowardly rabbit who for all the world just does not like sex.

You give yourself one moment to feel the depth of your fear before swallowing it back. Your hands are shaky, but you finish drying off. You get dressed; slipping on your binder for extra protection. It feels like a shield. Keeping you from crumbling to pieces. Keeping you from bolting.

Logan looks up from the sofa as you leave the bathroom. His brow furrows, clearly smelling the fear pouring off you, but he doesn’t say anything. He lets you come to him. Waits until you’re seated on the couch before quietly asking, “Everything alright?”

You almost throw up. Right then and there. Your hands are shaking again and grab onto your ears and pinch them tight to distract you. To do something to keep from spilling your insides on the floor.

You just nod as an answer, swallowing back your nausea yet again. You summon up all your strength. All the courage in your cowardly body.

You don’t look at him, though. That’s too much. You just whisper, “I need to talk to you.”

He straightens, but stays silent. Letting you speak.

“I—“ Your courage fails you. You curl into yourself, drawing your legs up to your chest. You press your forehead to your knees and desperately fight back the sting in your eyes.

Movement. A weight next to you on the couch. Logan’s warm hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. His voice quietly reaching through your panic. “It’s okay.”

But there’s a tremble to his voice. A crack in his solid foundation. It’s like a punch to the chest. What if he knows? What if he knows and thinks you’re… you’re…

His other hand envelopes yours, squeezing gently. “I get it,” he murmurs. “You’ve been stressed and I haven’t been there and…”

You blink and look up at him, vision watery. Slowly, you nod, unsure where he’s going.

Logan swallows and looks down. He looks so… vulnerable. So small for such a big man. It makes your chest ache in an entirely new way.

“Perhaps this is for the best.” It’s the most unconvincing thing you’ve ever heard him say. He seems to struggle with it too, like he knows how dumb it sounds.

And then the words click in your head. Tears well up all over again. “Are… Are you… breaking up with me?”

Logan lifts his head, brow furrowing. “I— What?”

“You’re… You’re breaking up with me.” It’s a thousand times worse than your heart shattering. Your entire being feels like it’s splintering. Tearing and distorting into miniscule shards of pain and hurt and grief. “I’m— I’m a freak and you’re— you’re—“

A sob wrenches from your chest. Shaking your body and spilling snot and tears down your face. You curl tighter into yourself, numbness slowly spiraling from your chest.

“A…” Logan stops. His hand pushes under your chin, forcing your head up so you look at him. “Buns, what were you gonna tell me? Before, what were you trying to say?”

His voice is so firm, so rushed and rough, you can’t do anything but answer. Through your tears, the words spill out. Tripping from your mouth in a sudden rush. All your fear from earlier seems trivial in the devastating face of a breakup.

“I’m asexual. I don’t like sex. I can’t do it— It’s— It’s gross and weird and— and I don’t want it! No matter how hard I try! I can’t do it, not even for you.”

You catch the briefest glimpse of pure relief on his face before his arms are around you, crushing you in a hug. You don’t question it. You bury yourself in his arms, pressing as close to him as you can physically be.

“Fuck,” he mutters, emotion trembling in his voice. “I thought you were breaking up with me. I thought—“

Clarity slowly dawns on you, causing a new wave of tears. “No! No, I wouldn’t—! I can’t—! I love you!”

He pulls back, cradling your face in his hands. Gently stroking your cheeks with his thumbs. There’s relief and adoration and… tears… shining in his eyes. “I love you too. All of you. Exactly as you are. If no sex means I get to keep you, hell, I’d cut off my own dick!”

That pulls a choked laugh from you. You nuzzle into his hands, slowly pulling your shattered pieces back together. “You… You don’t care I’m ace?”

“Of course I care.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “I care because it’s you. What I don’t care about is having sex. Feels damn good, but you’re more important than that.”

You melt. Turn into nothing but a floppy puddle of fluff and frayed nerves in his arms. Relief exhausts you, making you lean against him for support. “I love you,” you murmur.

He idly strokes one of your ears, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “I love you too, handsome. My handsome bunny boy.”

You snuggle against him, slowly letting the panic and stress and numbness ease from your chest. You can breathe again, and you take slow deep breaths. “I wouldn’t ever leave you,” you mumble.

You feel Logan relax. His arms wrapping tighter around you. Can feel his smile against your skin as he kisses your head again. He doesn’t say anything, but you know.

You’re safe with him. Safe and loved and wanted. Asexuality and all. And that’s more than you ever thought you’d have.

[ravenwolfie97]

okay i have to talk about this because it's been really bothering me lately and i need to say something before i explode

so lately i've been noticing on many videos, shortform or otherwise, that they include subtitles! awesome! super helpful and cool

but idk if it's always been a problem and i'm only noticing it now, or if it's gotten particularly bad lately, but... recently a lot of those subtitles are really really bad

slight tangential anecdote: i used to do some freelance captioning work in between real job hunting, and it was a good experience. i was already interested in doing it, obviously, but i was coached on proper captioning etiquette and guidelines to make it look as nice and readable as possible while also transcribing the audio as best as i could before my superiors would touch it up. so i do know a thing or two about proper subtitling, but even if you didn't you would Know that there are some serious problems right now

i'll give a few non-specific examples (bc i'm too lazy to hunt them down to show you). there is a pretty popular (i think) youtube shorts personality who mostly does reaction-based videos, like i think it's actually mostly tiktok stitches reuploaded to yt shorts. but anyway this person, along with most other tiktok people who have subtitles for their lil internet rambles, are probably only basing off of their voice, like there's some kind of auto-caption that gets most of the words right, save for a couple small ones. i can understand that especially for the reaction/vlog crowd who are just trying to pump out videos, but like. i also follow john and hank green. they also reupload their tiktok stitches to yt shorts and have subtitles. and guess what? they're flawless. immaculate. you Can change them. or maybe they just talk better idk my point still stands that there is issue here stemming from having the computer do it with minimal to no touch-up. which leads me to my next example

one of the first nails in the coffin recently was this one pokemon youtube shorts guy i kept getting where he'd look into old game saves. all of the videos are subtitled, but similar to the tiktoks, it appears to be transcribing the voice on its own. what's worse and the most important here is that - remember - this is a series of pokemon videos. saying a pokemon name and expecting an AI to understand what that is out the gate is insane. and it doesn't. any time a pokemon's name is said, it just spews out words that are vaguely similar-sounding standard english words. and it's never the same each time too, which is fun. this is where taking the time to edit or even give a smidge of a damn to the craft of your video really would mean a lot, because for as many as i've seen it turns me even more off every time i see those shitty subtitles. but unfortunately that's not the worst i've seen in the last few days

the one that hurt me so much i physically could not stand it, to the point that i left a Comment on how bad it was, was an edit of a streamer's twitch VOD. normally, this streamer uploads snippets of their streams to yt shorts and has really good and well-edited captions there! i usually have nothing to complain about from this guy. but this one particular video... i don't know if it's because it's an older VOD and someone's just been holding on to it for months, or if it was a huge rush job, or What. but this video had literally the worst captions i had ever seen. they were just slapped down in chunks, not even lining up with the people who were talking, a negligible amount of punctuation, literally the barest minimum of effort. but that's not all! let's not forget that this is an edited clipshow, and there are Effects and Transitions for not only the video itself but the text as well! so SOME amount of effort was put into this because it got actually edited into a decent-sized video instead of just being a small clip. it's literally makes me sick i am so unhappy about it

main point, TL;DR, moral of the story: for the love of all that is holy, please remember that captioning is literally an accessibility feature. some people cannot hear or are unable to listen to videos sometimes, and i can't imagine what a hearing-impaired person who relies on subtitles to engage with videos would think watching either of my last two examples. what makes it worse, too, is that i can't even tell these people to hire someone to do it for them, because oftentimes they DO have people to do that work for them. and they still fuck it up. and then they continue on, to churn out more content. ugh just take a moment to remember that captions are not just for engagement. they're a tool, and some people can use only those as their guide through your video. don't make it impossible to parse. the purpose of them is to be read and understood. and you can't do that if the sentences are in overlapping chunks or if your words are too non-standard to be translated by a computer

[hugsqueeze]

EVERYONE. EMERGENCY ALERT: IT'S GIRTHDAY AGAINNNNN YAYYYYYYYY 🌎🌈🌈💓💓💗💕💕💕💕💕💗💗🌈🌈🌈🩷🩷🩷👹👹👹🔥🔥‼️‼️‼️‼️ *STARTS TEARING THE ROOFS OFF OF HOUSES AND THROWING THEM INTO ORBIT AT SPEEDS SO FAST AND DANGEROUS THAT THEY COLLIDE INTO PLANETS AND INSTANTLY OBLITERATE THEM* HIIIII HAPPY GIRTHDAY TO THE ALWAYS UNENDINGLY EPIC AND BEST OF ALL TIME: @chalkpaste !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 👈‼️‼️‼️ HAPPY BIRTHDAY GIRTHWORMMMM ^_^ OMG AUGH I SUPER hope you had the most AMAZING and PROSPEROUS of days today ☝️ I hope that your birthday has been as swagful and delightful and lovely and life changing as you are YAYYYY *SPINS WITH YOU* 💕💕🌎🌈🌈🌈

[Bonus slightly alternate coloring under da cut + a (comically bad) first draft for fun]

Here's the slightly different version that I promised (base colors/no filter *smiles*)!

& OKAY I REALLY ALSO WANTED TO INCLUDE THIS BECAUSE I THOUGHT IT WAS (sort of 😭) FUNNY, but I was at work last week thinking about what I wanted to draw -> For Girthworm Birthday and I sketched out . This. On a sticky note LOLLL. Wow. Almost incomprehensible 👍

[juuzouclub]

kaminari is the type to dedicate a shot to you and miss horribly.

what’s worse is that he’s good at basketball

[lokissweater]

talk baby ⋆｡°✩

{mlb!megumi fushiguro x f!reader}

summary: it’s the season of the world series!— your little life with megumi absolutely warm and loving as you spent every waking moment together, the both of you never failing to hang out or speak to one another since the very moment you two made it official. but when the higher ups start demanding more of megumi to bring the world series home, tiring him out and causing him to lose sleep? a wedge is driven between you both as megumi tells you words he wished he’d never said.

warnings: MDNI. afab!reader, cursing, FLUFF, ANGSTYY, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it yall), SMUT, baseball talk, megumi LOOVESS YOUU my goodness, DONINANT AF MEGUMI OBVIOUSLYYY, creampie, shower sex, DIRTY TALK megumi has a filthy mouth, megumi and reader get into a fight, it’s the world series, all characters are aged up.

word count: 12.5k (IM SORRY IM SORRY IM SORRY-)

authors note: THE WAIT IS FINALLY OVERRR FUCK i cannot thank you all enough for the support with these series. i saw all of your AMAZING suggestions and sprinkled them all over THANK YOU!! i POURED my heart into this and i really hope you all love itttttt :,( STAY TUNED FOR THE NEXT FIC OF THIS SERIES AAHHH!! I LOVE YOU MWAHHH <33

i highly highly advise you to read the first part of this fic or else you won’t be able to understand some of the storyline and references :( you can find it here!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

megumi fushiguro loved how much you talked.

“—and then i went to the bakery down the street from my campus to get that one coffee cake i always get? the one you brought me after my class?”

“mhm.”

“but they were freaking out of it it’s like they knew i was coming to take their stock man. it was seven in the morning how the fuck are you out of coffee cake?”

megumi laughed softly and pressed a slow sweet kiss to your cheek, readjusting his arms around your waist as he scooched your body closer to his on his lap, the both of you on his huge black bean bag that sat in his living room as he leaned the side of his head back on your shoulder, relaxed and a little sleepy.

“so then i had to go to the one on campus, even though i already know it doesn’t taste the same…” you sighed sadly. “what if they did that on purpose? what if they want me to stop coming?”

megumi huffed an amused breath through his nose and shook his head gently against your shoulder. “don’t think so baby. i feel like you keep them in business with how much you go.”

you huffed and crossed your arms, grumbling. “yet they treat me like this...”

tilting your head down then to get a better look at him, you peeked at his sleepy face and tired eyes as he tried his absolute hardest to stay awake for you, wanting to listen to everything you had to say and more, but his eyelids drooping every couple of seconds before opening back up again just not letting him.

you smiled softly and carded your fingers through his black hair, pushing the front strands back and giving him a cute peck on his forehead.

“take a nap gumi… you’re so tired i can see it.”

“uh uh.” megumi hummed.

he lifted his head groggily and propped his chin up on your shoulder, eyes closed.

“keep going.” he murmured, his words a little slurred. “did you end up getting your coffee cake from the other bakery..?”

“i did.” you responded softly, caressing your thumb over his warm cheek as your soothing voice lulled him. “it was nasty. the end. c’mon baby you have practice tomorrow—”

“no.”

“gumi it’s late i don’t want to keep you uuupp.” you whined, nudging him.

“if you sleep over.” he mumbled.

“but i have class tomorrow.”

“i’ll take you.”

“but you always do and i feel bad…” you pinched his cheek softly. “it’s okay i can—”

“don’t care.”

you giggled. “well i do. i want you to get more sleep gumi, your practices are crazy long now and you have them like everyday—”

he groaned loudly and ushered you up, you complying as you watched him lazily stand from the bean bag and grab you, baggy eyes half lidded as he picked you up from around your legs and threw you over his shoulder— something he always did ever since the day he confessed, and something you absolutely floored over whenever he did it.

your giggles rang through his quiet and spacious apartment that made him sleepily smile as he lazily carried you down the hall and to his room, setting you softly to sit on his plush bed as he pressed a sleepy kiss to the top of your head, though nearly almost missing, him leaning back up and grabbing the hem of his black shirt— pulling it over his head and carelessly tossing it somewhere in the room before climbing into bed.

you felt so so bad. the team’s schedule was released just two weeks prior, and seeing as the world series was coming up— the most important segment of competitive games they could possibly ever have, the coaches and managers were grinding and overworking their players to pure fucking filth, them wanting to keep their streak as the number one baseball team no matter what it took.

and because of that, megumi was always so tired and stressed— holding on day by day as the higher ups demanded so much of him because he was the most skilled on the team, him spending his days trying to stay awake and make time for you— picking you up from class and taking you out to lunch like he always did, but your worried gaze always on his dark under eyes as you insisted and told him already that you understood, that he didn’t need to right now if it was over the subject of his career.

and especially if it was for the world series.

“lay down.” he murmured, patting the pillow next to him as he peeked at you with one eye open.

you stood, pulled the covers back and hopped in, megumi’s arm immediately snaking around your waist and pulling your back to his bare chest, his face nuzzling in your hair as you noticed how quickly his breathing deepened, falling asleep almost the minute you got settled in his arms and fitting like a little puzzle piece.

it had been almost an entire year since you and megumi started dating, and you have never ever been happier in your life as you thanked your lucky stars over and over again for being such a dumbass— wholly believing that if one thing had changed, it wouldn’t have played out the way that it did.

and you adored the way that it played out.

megumi was so affectionate. everyday. his love language being physical touch as he literally never left you alone and always had to be touching you in any given situation— like his hand on your thigh whenever he drove, playing with your fingers from across the table while out at a restaurant… and like now, his toned body literally engulfing you into his that it made you feel so cared for and warm and loved, something you always wanted to feel for the rest of your life as long as it was with him.

the next morning he drove you to school like he said he would, and then went straight to practice after, you telling him that you would be there once your classes were over.

and when you did get to the stadium later that day, megumi was mad.

“what the fuck happened?” you quickly sat next to your best friend on the sidelines, her snickering as you both watched megumi tell off another player for fumbling a double play on the field.

“they’re making more errors today,” your girl friend sighed. “they’re all nervous since their division series game is tomorrow and they’re getting closer to the big thing… but megumi is not having it.”

“you bobbled the ball go to first fucking base and eat it what the hell are you doing trying to—”

you gnawed at your bottom lip.

it was common for megumi to bark out orders and take charge on the field, that wasn’t out of the ordinary, but it was only here and there where he was yelling and insulting the rest of his teammates like that (mostly rarely). a sign you knew was because he was stressing the fuck out.

“what you just did was a kiddie fucking error we won’t make it to the world series like this dingus the fuck are you—”

you covered your face and groaned. “i can’t watch… i don’t think i’ve seen him like this since that one day he asked me to come here.”

“you mean the day he ate you out in—”

“shuuushhh!” your hands shot out and slapped over her mouth as she let out a muffled laugh, your eyes wide and cheeks pink as you frantically looked around to see if anybody had heard her.

she took your wrists then and pulled them away. “have you guys even had sex yet? how many times am i gonna ask you until you say yes—”

you nudged her away. “no! we haven’t yet.”

you didn’t know why you hadn’t— the topic just one that was never brought up by either of you.

but you’ve definitely done other things though.

megumi was like a dog, not knowing the meaning of ‘keep your hands to yourself’ as he was always groping your ass in public out of no where just to hear you squeak in surprise, shoving his hands down your pants and making you cum repeatedly on his fingers when you’re both innocently just watching a movie on his couch, pressing his face into your tits and sucking hickeys whenever you wore a low cut shirt, and bullying his way in between your legs to lick and devour you up whenever he felt like it— all things he did with zero hesitation nor self control.

you weren’t complaining though, definitely not— you were just as freaky.

because every time megumi wore those gray sweatpants after practices that you loved oh so very much, no shirt on with his perfect toned body out only for your eyes— your mouth was on him, licking his chest all the way down to his pelvis, tugging the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers down until all that was left before you was his mlb dick, you taking him into your mouth and sucking the absolute life out of him until he was shaking and breathlessly chanting your pretty name like a prayer—

“break!”

you pulled yourself from your thoughts and stood, your eyes already watching the way megumi walked over from across the field with his head down, chest heaving and his face glistening with sweat against the setting sun, his baseball uniform covered in dirt.

both you and your girl friend walked down the steps and towards the bullpen, you quickly grabbing a clean white hand towel from the gatorade jug rack beforehand and catching up, spotting yuji and megumi already seated inside on a bench.

upon megumi noticing you coming up, he smiled softly, tiredly.

“you guys are sucking today.” your best friend deadpanned, and you elbowed her.

“no. you guys just look really nervous… is everything okay?”

you took a seat next to megumi and silently offered the clean towel, him gently bringing up your extended wrist and pecking it in gratitude before taking the towel and wiping down his face, your cheeks flushing in response.

yuji sighed deeply and shook his head, scratching the back of his neck. “everyone’s literally losing it. we win every year but each year that comes is extra added pressure to keep that up.”

megumi nodded wordlessly in agreement, his head hung.

“well this is your first bad practice isn’t it?” you softly mentioned.

“yeah… maybe it’s just today and you guys will be okay tomorrow.” your girl friend added, smiling comfortingly at yuji, him giving her the same smile back but with apprehension in his eyes.

“would’ve been fine if it was yesterday.” megumi cut in, voice monotone. “not today. not when it’s the last leg for the world series.”

he leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms with closed eyes, yuji nodding next to him.

you pulled your lips into a thin line, heavy anxiety brewing in your chest at the thought of them possibly losing before even getting into the league championships, something their team has never done before as they’ve always just gone straight through.

in order to get through to the world series, their team has to win the division series and the league championships, then they earn their rightful shining spot of playing in the world series and winning— something megumi has been a part of for almost three years now, and something the team has dominated over for five consecutive years straight.

but what if this year was different?

“how are you feeling?” you gently asked megumi after a bit. “i saw you were a little mad today on the field…”

he slowly pried his eyes open and looked at you, sighing softly through his nose.

“m’fine pretty baby.” he murmured. “they’re just not playing like they should be.”

megumi took his cap off and scratched the side of his head, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. “and neither am i to be honest.”

your eyes softened.

“what do you mean?”

“m’just not meeting the standards i set for myself.”

“but you play well in every game gumi..” you mumbled. “don’t overwork yourself please. just keep doing what you’ve been doing… it’s been going great so far, hasn’t it?”

he gave you a little smile and lazily reached up to delicately caress and run the ends of your hair through his fingers. “i need to amp it up though. i need to try harder.”

“try harder when you’re already winning?” you quirked a confused brow.

he nodded.

“what’s the reason behind that?”

megumi gave you a sly smile. “because you’ll be watching me.”

you gawked, shaking your head at him. “gumi, you know anything that you do makes me freak out and it’s embarrassing...” you subconsciously tugged a bit at the sides of his jersey. “the way you tied my shoes for me the other day made me freak out. the way you pumped my gas last week made me freak out. the way you stuck your fingers inside my pu—”

his eyes bulged open as he shot forward and muffled you with a kiss, you kissing him back and laughing cutely once he pulled away.

“nasty mouth…” he mumbled, but the little grin on his face made you giggle as he put his cap back on over his head and nudged it down, trying to conceal his eyes and the blushing of his cheeks— but you catching on anyways.

“how was class?” he asked quietly, readjusting his cap. “did you get your coffee cake after i dropped you off?”

you shook your head. “no because i’d rather die than get the one on campus. they need to close that place down.”

megumi snorted, but his eyebrows pinched momentarily as he took your hand in his and started playing with your fingers. “you should’ve told me. i would’ve drove you to the one you like.”

“no gumi i wasn’t gonna make you do that... i wanted you to sleep in as much as possible.”

“i’ll take you after practice.”

“no! you need to nap after don’t waste time—”

“m’not wasting time.” he replied, but before you could get another word in, his coach called all players back on field.

“i’ll see you after.” he stood and pecked your forehead. “i love you pretty baby.”

you smiled shyly, your cheeks a cute pink.

“i love you too.”

thankfully, megumi didn’t seem as pissed off for the rest of practice, and you hoped it was because of the little chat you had with him in the bullpen prior and that it cheered him up in some way— the team playing a lot better and actually working together this time instead of being at each others throats over feeble mistakes.

and when they were all finally back at the locker rooms packed up and ready to go, you organized his clean uniform for tomorrow and hung his gloves neatly inside his locker, closing it once you were done.

“you don’t have to do that baby.” he murmured, gesturing to his locker as he swung his duffel bag over his shoulder and extended a hand. “organize. i can do that.”

“but i like doing it...” you took his offering hand and interlaced your fingers with his. “it helps you find things quicker.”

you both stepped out, quickly bidding your girl friend and yuji goodbye on the way as you walked down the echoey hallway together.

“—you also don’t have to drive me to school every morning but you do that anyways.”

he smiled. “touché.”

he led you out of the arena and over to the private parking area for players and crew— him opening the passenger side door for you to step inside and shutting it after, throwing his duffel bag to the back once he got in the drivers seat.

and like he always did, megumi buckled you up himself, grabbing the seat belt strap and pulling it over you to click on the other side with a kiss to your cheek— him never letting you do it yourself since the day you two properly met.

“do they sell food at the bakery?” he looked over at you as he pulled out. “they do don’t they.”

“they do!” you nodded sweetly. “but we’re not going.”

“why.”

“because you need to sleep—”

“no.”

“megumi—”

he shot you a glare and you squeaked.

“gumi! i-i meant gumi!”

he fixed his glare and broke out into a small smile instead, laughing lightly as he set his big hand over your thigh and squeezed lovingly.

you giggled softly.

“lunch first and then i’ll sleep.”

“oh my—”

you reached over for the door handle and pulled, brows furrowing once the lock wouldn’t budge after multiple frantic tries.

“you still have child lock on?!”

megumi shielded his mouth to hide his snicker, eyes to the road.

“uh huh.”

“why?!”

he gave you a deadpanned look and pointed to the door. “exhibit a, baby. the car is moving.”

“gumi if you hate me just say that.”

pulling into the bakery’s parking lot, he playfully rolled his eyes at your comment and pinched your cheek gently.

“be quiet.”

the bakery was a cute little place that was a frequent pit stop for the both of you to pick up breakfast on the way to the things you had to do in the mornings— always cozy and warm and filled with little trinkets and postcards of places from around the world, you always gushing when you or megumi would spot a new souvenir on the walls or on the shelves, and him sometimes having to stop you from snatching some for yourself…

“they have a million!” you whispered. “they won’t notice this one. please it’s from greece it’ll look cute on my fridge!”

megumi sipped his lemonade and gave you a half lidded look as you both sat in a booth.

“i don’t know if anyone has ever told you this but.” he gently slid the coffee cake closer to you, silently ushering you to eat. “that’s called stealing.”

“not if they don’t notice.”

megumi gave you an amused smile.

“i’ll take one for you too!”

“for me?”

“yeah!” you put your elbow on the table and propped your chin on your palm, tilting your head with the cutest expression megumi has ever seen in his fucking life.

“i’d do anything for you.”

his cheeks flooded pink, and he swallowed thickly.

megumi would do anything for you.

“i appreciate that pretty baby,” he murmured, tenderly tracing the pad of his index finger mindlessly around the back of your hand.

“great! so can i do it?”

“no.”

“maaannnn!” you slumped over the table and pouted. “you’re no fun.”

he chuckled and took a bite out of his ham and cheese deli, your mannerisms sometimes reminding him of his dad.

he swallowed.

“gojo wants to meet you.”

you froze. “really? he does?”

megumi nodded.

“okay! that’s okay— wait no! wait—” you groaned and leaned against the booth. “i don’t think he’s gonna like me very much…”

“huh?” his eyebrows furrowed. “why do you say that?”

you peered up at him sheepishly. “because i talk too much… i’m not gonna notice and end up telling him my lore, my school gpa, and my social security number.”

megumi laughed, and your heart fluttered at the sight of his crinkling eyes and gorgeous smile, the sound of it making you swoon.

he shook his head and rubbed his sleepy eyelids. “no baby... he’d love you. i know he would.”

“i don’t know gumi…” you sighed, looking down at your lap. “i want to meet him of course! that’s a given… but..”

megumi quirked a brow. “but?”

“i just don’t want to look stupid…” you laughed nervously. “it’s happened before where my friends parents say i’m a blabber mouth and i don’t want to embarrass you—”

his tired eyes narrowed. “blabber mouth? who’s saying you’re a blabber mouth?”

“my— my ex boyfriend in high school…” you cowered a little. “but it’s okay because i was over sharing!—”

“no.” he said firmly, his gaze looking directly into yours. “you’re not a blabbermouth. there’s a difference between being really open and friendly with people right off the bat and being a blabbermouth.”

megumi shook his head in annoyance. how could someone ever say you were a blabbermouth? he had never heard something that was so far from the truth.

you were too sweet for your own good, that was your only fault. you considered everyone you met a close friend of yours and weren’t afraid to tell them whatever came to your precious mind and made them feel welcome— something that megumi adored so much about you… so much, and something that made him borderline violent when people berated you for it.

“they just can’t handle it when someone is actually genuine. like you. and that’s not your fault.”

the shiniest smile grew on your face then, your eyes sparkling and feeling like a million fucking butterflies were fluttering all over your tummy— internally screaming at his words.

“thank you gumi…” you spoke softly. “i’m glad at least you don’t see an issue with it.”

“i don’t.” he shook his head. “i don’t at all.”

he loved it.

the rest of your lunch date was spent with megumi still not letting you steal the greece trinket magnet from the wall, you scolding him for the bags under his eyes, and him buying you two more slices of coffee cake to go no matter how many times you told him it was okay, the both of you gathering your things and going back to his car after a bit for him to drop you off back home.

“i’ll be here in the morning to take you to class.” he said gently, turning the corner and nearing your street.

“what? isn’t the division series game tomorrow?” you asked, taken aback. “gumi no just get as much sleep as you can it’s a big day. i can take myself.”

he looked at you boredly.

“no.”

“guumiii!”

he pulled into your driveway and shifted his gear into park, the corners of his mouth turned upward into a little goofy grin.

“i can take you baby it’s fine,” he pushed gently. “don’t worry.”

“you’ve been stressed though… and tired.”

you unbuckled your seatbelt and reached over, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in as he immediately leaned in and tucked his face into your neck, breathing in your honeyed perfume and letting himself slump into your soft frame.

“please promise me that after the division series, you’ll rest up like crazy before the league championships.” he pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes nearly closing as he sleepily blinked. “okay?”

“league championships? didn’t know we already won.” he murmured.

you giggled. “obviously. you’re my cool baseball man, are you not?”

he tiredly grinned and pressed a sweet sweet kiss to your cheek, him biting down on it after and making you yelp before snickering and pulling away.

“bye gumi,” you quickly grabbed a slice of coffee cake and placed it on his leg. “here eat this on the way home so you don’t fall asleep.”

he chuckled and watched as you grabbed your things, hopped out, and ran across the front of his car, leaning your head in through his open window once you reached him and pressing your soft lips to his, megumi fucking melting at the feeling.

you pulled apart and he pecked you one last time— a series of i love you’s iterated before you backed away and waved excitedly from your front door, him waiting until you were inside to reverse, his engine roaring and his black car shining against the moonlight as he sped down the street.

the next morning you got up around the time that you usually did, showered and did your hair and got ready for class, packed your school bag and made your bed—

but megumi hadn’t texted you. like at all.

he usually sent you a good morning text, followed by him letting you know when he was leaving the house, followed by when he was on his way, and followed by when he was just down the street and pulling up.

except you got nothing.

you figured maybe today was just one of those days where he maybe just simply forgot and was already on his way, but as you stood literally outside of your house, gnawing on your thumb and the time coming painfully close to the start of your morning class as you still got nothing from megumi (even when you had texted him multiple times at this point), you started shitting it.

just as you were about to run inside to get the keys to your car, your phone buzzed as a picture of you and megumi flashed across the screen.

megumi!

“hel—”

“baby!—” he breathed out, frantic. “baby i’m sorry i’m so sorry i’m coming okay im down the street—”

“what happened?” you breathed out worriedly, your heart hammering against your chest.

“i overslept!—” he explained quickly. “i’m late to the team’s call time and— and you’re late to class and i— fuck!”

you heard his horn blare and his tires screech as muffled curses flew from his mouth, you jumping at the noise.

“sorry sorry someone cut me off i’m almost there—”

“no gumi go straight to the stadium you’re late!” you spoke firmly. “i can take myself—”

“no but i wanted to see you before the game—”

“it’s fine we can see each other after the game okay? when you win—” you grabbed your keys from the coffee table by your door and ran out, unlocking your car and getting in. “you’re late baby so fucking late please turn back this isn’t good coach is gonna chew you out—”

“shit! i know i know—”

“go gumi hang up it’s okay!”

“okay.. fuck okay okay—”

you heard rustling on the other line before he spoke again.

“i love you i’m sorry ill see you after!”

and the line went dead.

you slugged through the rest of your classes as the day felt way fucking longer than it normally did, you desperately just wanting to see megumi and know that he was okay, that he wasn’t in trouble with his coach and the management team for being over an hour late to the division series call time, you on the verge of literal tears multiple times over him.

your best friend and you had planned to get ready for the game together and sport your men’s jerseys from the stands— a girl’s night you were agonizingly looking forward to all freaking month, and so so excited that the day was finally here to support and be present for the making of yet another year for the boys’ team.

“and then he hung up. i thought he was gonna get into a wreck man—”

you ran your fingers through your styled hair in your vanity mirror, your best friend readjusting her jersey behind you— ‘itadori’ in big capital letters on the back.

“megumi is the most hard headed mean stubborn man i have ever come across in my life.” she searched around in her makeup bag, pulling out her lip liner and reapplying next to you. “i don’t know how many times you told him to sleep and get some rest. and yuji too! he hasn’t stopped talking about him since the schedule change and now i’m starting to think he’s in love with him.”

you laughed loudly.

“i know…” you sighed anxiously through your nose, nervous clammy jitters in your chest. “his eye bags have gotten so bad this past week.”

“i think it’s because he’s been practicing over time.”

you stopped.

“what do you mean?”

she looked at you quizzically. “i thought you knew? yuji told me that the higher ups had a meeting with megumi and told him that they were expecting him to bring the world series home.”

she popped the lid back on her lip liner and threw it in her bag. “he practices all night on the field until like four am.”

“what the fuck?” your eyes narrowed. “he never told me that? he picks me up for my seven am class everyday… that means he’s only been getting what— like two and a half hours of sleep this past week?”

she stopped. “he didn’t tell you?”

“no!” you exclaimed. “when was this meeting?”

“at the start of last week.”

“oh my god.” you grumbled.

why didn’t he tell you?

“that’s fucked up.” she shook her head. “talk to him about that after babe… i don’t know why this man didn’t tell you something like that.”

“i would’ve never let him pick me up for class if i knew this was going on…” you gloomily fiddled with the buttons on your jersey. “or hang out with me after practice.”

and why the hell were the higher ups demanding so much from megumi? why were they burning him out with a responsibility so huge as to ensuring the success of the team for the world series? that wasn’t fair to him. that wasn’t fair at all.

your girl friend hugged you comfortingly.

“it’s fine don’t worry about it okay?… just talk to him after.”

once at the stadium, you and your best friend squeezed and pushed through the crowd to get to the v.i.p. section, the both of you sweating and panting over having run across the stadium’s parking lot and the main area, all because your best friend couldn’t decide which way to do her hair, and because you couldn’t decide if you should wear a skirt or jeans.

you ended up choosing for each other and calling it a day.

“hey! you guys!”

you both snapped your heads up and you recognized the source of the voice as one of the assistant crew members of the team, jogging up to you guys with two devices in his hands.

“you guys want these radios or are you good? they’re connected to the announcers and have earbuds!”

“oh i’ll take one! thank you!” you answered politely, smiling as he passed you and your best friend a radio.

you pushed the earbud into your left ear and sat.

the crowd was buzzing and cheering with excitement, flashes of light shimmering throughout the sold out stadium as many held up posters and signs or bobble heads, you smiling wide every time you spotted a few of megumi’s face and name.

the air was warm, and every kind of news reporter, publicist, and journalist was present on the sidelines as they filmed and interviewed several players from the opposing team.

“let’s play ball!”

the crowed roared, claps and whistles ringing through the air as yuji walked out from the dugout, the both of you screaming as the rest of the team followed suit, your shoulders evidently relaxing at the sight of megumi jogging out into position looking absolutely jaw dropping in his clean cut uniform and cap, serious and focused.

as the game ensued, it was no surprise that the boys’ team was absolutely demolishing the opposing players, megumi doing fucking stellar out on the field as he caught ball after ball with his glove, the announcers commentary certainly helping with explaining the context of the game due to your lack of knowledge, but you trying your hardest anyways to understand on your own.

and finally after a while of switching sides and megumi hitting like a greek god, the teams switched sides what seemed like the final time since it was almost the nine inning, his turn to hit.

“walking up to base now… number eighteen— megumi fushiguro!”

the crowd went fucking insane as he walked up, you immediately standing and screaming over the railing as he took his position up there— swinging soft faux hits before properly adjusting his footing on the loose dirt, fans waving around their fushiguro banners or his baseball cards as he settled.

the bags under his eyes…

you gnawed anxiously at your bottom lip. his team was so close to moving on to the league championships…

“and the pitcher throws….”

hit!

“strike one!”

megumi screwed his eyes shut and grimaced, shaking his head furiously as he shook the nerves from his body and wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.

“oh!” the announcers groaned. “looks like megumi fushiguro missed a hit for the first time in history!”

for the first time?

you whipped your head around to face your girl friend. “for the first time?”

she looked at you with the same terrorized expression.

“fuck i knew he always hit but i didn’t know he never missed…” you whined worriedly. “he’s exhausted man i can see it look—”

megumi’s footing slightly slipped from the dirt as he positioned himself, getting ready for the next swing.

“and the pitcher throws again…”

hit!

“strike two!”

“fuck!” megumi roared, walking off the home plate and chucking his bat to the wall— the wood flying and clattering as it hit the ground, your eyes widening in horror.

“woah looks like fushiguro got another strike and.. needs to take a breather off the field..?”

“if megumi doesn’t get this next hit, they’re done!” your girl friend shook her head, eyes wide and afraid. “the other team is gonna take it!”

you ran your fingers through your hair exasperatedly, frantically looking at the scoreboard and back at megumi who was pacing a little off the plate with his head down, his hands on his hips.

“fushiguro!” you spotted yuji yelling from the dugout. “get back on the plate! we could get flagged!”

megumi’s chest heaved as he picked up his bat and wiped off the dirt, walking back over to the home plate and repositioning himself.

cameras flashed and recorded as he tried to get back into focus, news reporters talking their asses off and journalists scribbling god knows what— as they just earned themselves their biggest headline of the season.

megumi fushiguro missed his first hit in playing history.

“and the pitcher throws…”

hit!

“oh there it goes! looks like a fair ball!”

the crowd rallies as megumi books it over the first two bases, everyone watching as the ball hits over the outfield fence as he fucking dashes across the remaining two bases like nothing, earning himself a home run—

and scoring a spot in the league championship games for his team.

you and your best friend jump for complete joy, throwing your arms around each other and swaying as fans all around you celebrated and cheered just like the both of you, you happily watching the players from the dugout run up and engulf megumi in a group hug, jumping and laughing.

as the crowd began to disperse and take leave, you both quickly ran down the steps and to the field, you immediately spotting megumi and running up to him with your arms out.

“gumi!”

he noticed you and extended his arms, but his face read nothing as you jumped into them.

“good job good job! you did so amazing!”

“nice fushiguro!” yuji nudged his shoulder. “you brought us through!”

“i missed the first two hits.”

he set you back down.

yuji shrugged. “so? it happens. i do it all the time! you made a home run and scored us the league.”

megumi only silently nodded, his face to the ground as you told yuji and your best friend that you would see them in the locker rooms with everybody else.

and once everyone had cleared out from the field, you turned to him.

“hey…” you started. “what’s wrong?”

his eyes remained glued to the dirt.

“i missed the first two hits.”

your shoulders deflated. “you heard what yuji said… it’s okay. it was bound to happen but it’s fine because you fixed it—”

“we were on thin fucking ice today.”

his snippy tone took you by surprise a bit.

“yes… but you made it...” you responded softly. “you all pulled through. especially you.”

he scoffed and shook his head, him finally raising his baggy eyes and looking to the side, pissed.

“i almost cost us the league. that’s what i did.”

“gumi—” you exhaled a frustrated breath. “you literally played like a machine the entire time and had other hits that were amazing? i don’t understand why two little strikes—”

his eyes snapped to yours. “two little strikes?” he shook his head again. “two strikes too fucking many.”

“what is your issue?—”

“my issue is that if i fucked up that third hit it would’ve been all over. we would’ve lost the division, lost the league, and lost the world series, all because i don’t know how to fucking play ball—”

“yes you do! you’re being way too hard on yourself baby you need to take a breather and rest—”

“how many times have you nagged me about that already.” he spat.

you froze.

“nagged?” you repeated softly.

“yes. you’ve told me enough times i get it i need rest, i need sleep, i need this i need that—”

“i’m saying that because look at you!” you motioned with your hands, feeling potential tears prickling at the back of your eyes at the way he was speaking to you. “your under eyes are dark and purple, your eyes are red you look exhausted!”

“and i told you i’m fine!” he raised his voice a bit. “you wouldn’t understand the shit that i have to do for this team the shit i have to pull and i gave them absolute garbage today—”

“oh my god megumi!” you snapped. “your team is a team effort! it’s not just you! you’re not the only one pulling the stops so enough with trying to take on this load and overwork yourself! please you played amazing today everyone was cheering so loud for you and—”

“stop talking.”

you paused.

“just—” he rubbed his tired eyes and turned to the side. “just please stop talking.”

stop… talking?

he struck a chord, and you felt your heart literally break at his words, an aching heavy pit in your chest as you recounted his yelling and snappiness when all you were trying to do was help him.

thats all you’ve ever tried to do for megumi really— help him, support him, and love him. but for him to throw it all back in your face and say you didn’t understand? for you to basically shut up?

tears were slipping past your eyes at this point, and when you felt like megumi finally bothered to look at you in the face, his eyes widened and his shoulders dropped.

“baby—”

“and what about you?”

he stopped. “about me—”

“yes about you. you’re saying i don’t understand anything you’re fucking going through, as if i haven’t followed you through your career since the moment we met and before that, like i haven’t supported you on the sidelines and asked you question after question about your games just so i can fucking understand—”

“no i—”

you cut him off. “and then you’re here— yelling at me, telling me off, and telling me to shut up when i’m the only one fucking standing here with you after the game trying to be there for you?!—”

“baby— fuck i’m sorry okay i didn’t mean—”

you laughed bitterly. “you didn’t mean it. didn’t mean what? to accidentally let it slip that you actually do think i’m a blabbermouth?”

he was taken aback as his eyebrows furrowed, shaking his head desperately. “no— no that’s not what i meant at all y/n i’m sorry. i’ve been so stressed and tired and i’m taking it all out on you right now and— and that’s not okay and not an excuse.”

megumi quickly stepped forward and placed his hands on your face, but you pushed him away, hurt flashing across his eyes as you did so.

“and why didn’t you tell me about the meeting huh? the one with the higher ups last week?”

surprise crossed his face. “how did you—”

“doesn’t matter how i heard it. why didn’t you tell me? do you understand how that makes me feel when i have to find out through someone else and not my own boyfriend?”

he ran a hand through his spiky black hair and sighed exhaustedly.

“i didn’t tell you because i knew you would be upset about it and i didn’t want you to worry—”

“so you just chose to keep it from me that’s real nice.” you spat. “of course i wouldn’t be happy with it they’re stripping you down and exploiting you! how could they say that it’s all on you to bring it home for the world series? do you understand how insane that sounds?”

“i know but i can’t tell them anything i just have to say yes!” he explained.

“you have every right to tell them something! and if you would’ve communicated this with me like you should’ve done, i wouldn’t have let you lose so much sleep over me and maybe you wouldn’t have played the way you think you played, and you wouldn’t be standing here shitting all over me!”

he really struck a chord.

“y/n—”

“bye megumi.”

his breath hitched.

“no— hey don’t do that—”

he scrambled after you as you made your way out of the field, him quickly catching up and tugging you into him with his long arms around your shoulders, bringing your back to his front as he ducked his face down.

“let’s fix it please we need to fix this—”

“i want to be alone right now, megumi.” you mumbled.

god he hated how many times you’ve called him that already tonight, feeling like the biggest asshole to ever grace your precious life.

“no i don’t want you to be upset with me please—”

“we can talk later on the phone.” your tone was lifeless. “i just need to be alone.”

he faltered, feeling gutting pain cascade all over his body as he hesitantly, slowly, slipped his arms away and released you.

“o—okay.”

he watched you walk up the stands and to the exit as you clutched yourself, his eyes catching the back of your jersey reading his last name that sent an immediate pang through his chest, your frame disappearing from his view and leaving him in his stupid thoughts as he snatched his cap off from his head and threw it to the side in frustration.

that night megumi tried to call you but you didn’t pick up, you barely even answering his texts as he wallowed in self pity alone in his apartment.

and you hadn’t stopped crying since the moment your tears hit on the field— hurt and exhausted and guilty as you settled into bed, unable to bring yourself to call him and go through with your word, deciding to text instead.

(you): i’m really tired i’m sorry. i’ll see if i can call you in the morning.

megumi took no time at all to respond.

(gumi <3): can i take you to class tomorrow?

(you): i don’t think that’s a good idea

he swallowed the lump in his throat and fought back the urge to fight it, wanting to respect you and your space.

but you only kept crying.

(gumi <3): okay

(you): goodnight

(gumi <3): goodnight pretty baby

just as you were about to place your phone back on your nightstand, it buzzed again.

(gumi <3): i love you i’m sorry

you sniffled and put your phone away officially, choosing not to respond.

the following week leading up to the league championship game, megumi spent every waking moment trying to make it up to you, trying to fix it, but you only seemed to stay away from him and distance yourself, something that hurt megumi like no other.

you felt like it was your fault he played the way he did that day. if you had been smarter, more mindful, you would’ve noticed that the intensity of his exhaustion was extremely abnormal, and perhaps you could’ve done something about it before it was too late and saved yourself the dreadful fight you had with him.

you hated the way you spoke to him, and you fully convinced yourself that you only served as a distraction for him, opting to keeping your distance as far away as possible so it allowed megumi to get his head focused again and ensure a promised route to the world series— something you had hoped to be there to witness, but deeming his success way more important than your needs at this point in time.

so you stopped going to all of his practices following that day, the fact tormenting megumi as you always went to each and every single one and was there for him without fault— rain or shine, always waiting for him in the locker rooms when he was finished.

but you weren’t there anymore. and each day you weren’t was another day megumi would spend angry and frustrated with himself that he did what he did. he knew your defense mechanism was pushing people away, and your current behavior gave him flashbacks to the time last year when he was falling for you and you kept running away from him, scared— those actions a carbon copy of what’s happening now, except far worse.

and he did that to you. he yelled at you and snapped at you, told you to stop talking for some fucking reason that he still couldn’t find the proper explanation for… and he made you cry. so much. your usual sweet honeyed voice you spoke to him with long gone since that day.

and he missed you. more than anything.

“you stupid—” throw “self absorbed—” throw “asshole—” throw “narcissistic—” throw—

“okay that’s enough that’s enough!”

yuji pulled your best friend back as she chucked towel after towel at megumi following one of their practices, her absolutely fuming.

he took every hit, not bothering to dodge. he deserved it.

“she told me what you did—” she shook herself away from yuji’s grip. “what the hell is the matter with you? how could you yell at her like that on the field? when all she’s ever done is love you—”

“i know.” megumi mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “i know i’m really sorry. i regret it.”

“fuck yeah you should,” she scoffed. “that woman’s been cooped up every day in her room bawling her eyes out over you!”

yuji nodded sadly, and megumi let out a pained breath as he closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands, propping his elbows on his knees, leaning forward.

“fuck me…”

“yeah fuck you—”

“okay! okay. he’s already down let him bleed out.” yuji muttered to her as he rubbed his hands over her arms soothingly, an attempt at calming her down.

he looked at him. “megumi, you and i both know that she understands you were frustrated that day. the both of you. if you just talk to her—”

“you think i haven’t tried?” megumi picked his head up, and the both of them froze at the way his eyes glossed over.

“i’ve— i’ve called her, i’ve texted her, i drove by her house but she’s never there, fuck i even went to her campus at seven in the morning but couldn’t find her.”

he took his cap off and roughly rubbed over his eyes again.

your best friend sighed then after a moment, slowly stepping forward and sitting down next to him on the bench.

“she’ll come around megumi.” she mumbled. “just give her some time. i know it’s hard, but she really really loves you.” she sighed deeply. “she’ll come around.”

megumi nodded solemnly, and yuji stepped forward, patting his shoulder.

“you okay man?”

he nodded again.

missed phone calls, lagging dry texts, and last minute cancellations from you all happened for a week straight.

and when the time finally came for the league championships, megumi wanted nothing more than for you to be there as he stared at his messy fucking locker when prepping for the game— another reminder that you hadn’t been around, and another reminder that you wouldn’t be here tonight to see him, something he completely did not blame you for.

luckily, the league championship game was at their home base once more, and as the crowd got settled to watch, energies heightened as the players all got settled over the field to play ball— megumi shook the nerves from his body as he focused with the game, and you, on his mind like a religion.

and as the game ran on with the team scoring run after run, another win was blatantly obvious for them— megumi entirely unaware of your presence that was watching him the entire time in the stands.

you couldn’t help yourself. you needed to be there to watch him, needed to see him take home another achievement like that, regardless of where you both stood as you watched from just above the v.i.p section, shivering like an idiot because you forgot to bring a jacket after deciding to wear a flowy tube top for the day, but excited for him nonetheless.

you didn’t tell a single soul you were coming, not even your best friend as you just wanted to see megumi again before running off into the shadows of your embarrassing despair, missing him like fucking crazy and nearly sobbing when you saw him walk out on the field at the start, but even more emotional to the fact that they were actually going to move on to the world series by the looks of it.

and the crowd hollered eventually as the speakers blasted megumi’s teams signature song—

finalizing their spot in the world series.

your eyes glowed as you watched his team run up on the field and tackle each other down, literally rolling in the dirt as you giggled to yourself— sighing contently and about to turn and walk out of the stadium to go home when a strong rough hand wrapped around your bare upper arm.

“you’re fushiguro’s girl! aren’t you?”

you snapped your head up and saw someone you recognized as one of megumi’s crew members for the team, and you relaxed, trusting him.

“oh! yeah i am!”

“sweet! i just got hired to be on the crew a couple of weeks ago.”

“that’s great!” you answered politely, smiling. “how is—”

“listen i was wondering if i could get any tickets to the world series from you?”

what.

“um—” your eyes darted around awkwardly. “for— for the world series?—”

“yeah! i took this job so i could get some but apparently i need to be working longer than three weeks. dumb.”

you gnawed at the inside of your cheek as your eyes drifted downward to your arm.

he still hadn’t let go.

“oh i’m sorry.” you mumbled. “i could— i could maybe get you one? one for sure!”

he shook his head. “shit sorry, i need like five.”

“five?!” you gawked. “i can’t get you five i’m really sorry… i can only maybe get you one.”

his eyes narrowed. “why not? you’re fushiguro’s girl are you not?”

“yes but what does that have to do with me getting you tickets to the world series?” you spoke nervously, trying to put on a brave front as his height literally towered over you.

“why don’t you ask him for tickets? he’s literally megumi fushiguro i’m sure he can cough up some—”

you scoffed.

“i’m not gonna ask him anything for you just because you want to use me to get tick—”

“so then what the fuck are you with him for?” his grip tightened around your arm as he pulled you a little, and you winced.

“let go of me!—”

megumi considered himself a relatively calm person throughout his life.

he knew he had his explosive rude moments here and there, him also accidentally offending people unknowingly with his words, but that behavior only stayed on the field as it pertained to the game at hand or with baseball itself, his life outside of that a treasured tranquil one as he spent his days with you and only you, something he looked forward to every waking moment since the day he met you.

but as he heard your little voice through the yelling of the crowd, instantly recognizing it and picking up on its distressed demeanor— his body did a full one-eighty as his eyes frantically searched for you through the mass of people.

and once he did spot you? your breathtaking little self being manhandled by some fucking moron who had his hand around your upper arm?

he didn’t consider himself a relatively calm person anymore.

megumi quickly snatched his cap off and passed it to a confused yuji and your best friend, sprinting at the speed of light across the field and to the fence of the v.i.p. section before hoisting himself up and climbing, jumping over once he reached the top and landing on the stands— him running up a few steps before finally reaching you and tearing the guy off.

“get the fuck off.”

he gently pushed you behind him, his chest heaving.

“the shit are you doing hurting her arm like that for huh?!” megumi stepped forward.

“hey! hey i’m sorry man i— i didn’t know i was hurting her—”

“sure you fucking did she was literally telling you to let go and you were throwing her around like—”

“megumi please—”

“are you part of the crew?”

“y—yeah?”

“you’re gone. you’re fired you’re—”

“wait i’m sorry! i was just trying to get tickets to the world series—”

megumi’s eyes blew open, wild and infuriated.

“that’s why you were grabbing her like that? you were harrassing her for some fucking ticke— you know what—”

megumi stepped forward before you could stop him as he reeled his fist back and knocked him straight in the jaw, the guy stumbling back a bit and the crowd gasping before megumi spun around and grabbed your legs, throwing you over his shoulder.

“get the fuck out of my way.”

the small crowd that stuck around for the altercation parted with no questions asked, his long legs striding over across the exit and to the teams now vacant locker room— kicking the door open before gently setting you down on your feet.

he ran his hands over your soft hair frantically as he grabbed your cheeks and checked you over, your teary doe eyes breaking him apart.

“hey are you okay? are you fine?”

megumi let go of your face and gently lifted your upper arm, his eyes hardening at the purple forming bruise from that dickwads hand.

“he’s gone he’s gone—”

you lunged and wrapped your arms around his waist tightly as he started to charge back out, pulling him back.

“no! stop it’s okay you already hit him i think he got the message.” you mumbled, letting him go.

megumi turned to you then, his eyes softening over your timid sad frame as you played with your fingers, gaze down.

“y/n.”

“hm?”

he frowned.

“can you please look at me.”

you listened reluctantly and peered up at him.

he exhaled. “baby i— i’m sorry. i’m so fucking sorry for everything that i said to you that night. i meant none of it. nothing. i was just angry at myself and stressed and stupid and i hate that i talked to you like that and took it out on you. you didn’t deserve that at all.”

you hurriedly wiped your silent tears— nodding, but saying nothing.

he leaned down to look at you at eye level.

“are you okay?”

you nodded again and sniffled.

“talk baby.” he pleaded with you gently, eyes sad. “tell me, please.”

you cowered a little as you finally broke into tiny sobs, your hands hovering over your face to hide your tears as he placed his big hands on your upper arms, megumi feeling like he just got run over by an entire military tank at the sight of you crying because of him.

“i—i’m sorry i yelled at you—” you hiccuped. “i was so mean and i f—feel really bad—”

“baby why are you apologizing?” he shook his head. “it’s me it’s all me i’m the one who was mean to you—”

“no but—” you sniffled. “you were just stressed from the game like you said and that’s fine i should’ve been more aware. i didn’t mean to upset you with me talking—”

“oh pretty baby..” he breathed out, agonizingly, megumi literally beating himself up. “remember when i said one time you were too nice for your own good?”

you nodded.

“this is one of those moments. you should be yelling at me and throwing things at me like your best friend did.”

your eyebrows furrowed as you sniffled. “she— she did?”

“she did.” he nodded. “rightfully so.”

you giggled a little, and he smiled softly.

“i’m sorry i distanced myself the way i did…” you mumbled, a waterfall of tears coming down again. “i just thought that i was a distraction and— and i wanted you to focus.”

“a distraction?” he murmured. “y/n you are never a distraction.”

“no but at the end of the day i was…” you sobbed. “you need to be there for your team you have—“ hic! “you have responsibilities and i don’t want you to put me above that and— and keep hanging out with me when you have so much to do—”

“something you need to understand is that i’m replaceable.” he cut you off, tone firm. “the minute they find some other dude that’s way better than me and quicker than me and they draft his ass over to the team? they are going to replace me faster than you will ever think. that’s just the way jobs are. i’m replaceable no matter how much you wanna think it’s not true.”

he shook his head, his face pained. “but you are not. you’re not fucking replaceable there is no other you. you are my life now baby. yes my career is a priority, but so are you, and i would rather them replace me than lose you entirely.”

he wiped the tears from your cheeks, your doe eyes wide.

“i appreciate that you care so much and you support me and that you want me to devote all of my time to only this— you’re an angel on earth for all of that… but as your man i’m telling you that all of my time is devoted to you now, not just baseball.”

you wrapped your arms around his neck and tugged him closer to you, tight, him immediately reciprocating and snaking his arms around your waist.

he could finally breathe.

“do you understand?” he murmured softly, rubbing his hands over your back soothingly.

you nodded.

“but you can’t— wear yourself out like you did okay?” you sniffled. “you can’t let them push you and tire you out… and please listen when we say for you to rest…”

“i know i’m sorry. i’ll listen next time baby i promise.”

“i get you trying to improve for yourself and push your limits… but— but there’s a difference between wanting to better your play and straight up wearing yourself down.”

you pulled back a little to look at him, wiping your tears and hiccuping. “and i worry man… i worry so much because i—“ hic! “i love you and i always think about if you’re eating right or— or getting enough sleep—”

his heart literally melted as he felt the remains of it ooze and spread all over his body and insides, your pure sweet concerns tugging at him and turning him into absolute putty before you.

he tightened his grip around your waist and lifted you, gently rocking your bodies as you sniffled and cried, his eyes screwed shut and feeling every possible emotion a human being could ever feel… but feeling love most of all.

love for you. love for who you are.

megumi kissed your wet cheek delicately and let his lips linger there as he spoke.

“i’m in love with you…” he murmured. “i hope you know that.”

your heart fluttered and you nodded, a little smile playing at your face.

“i’m in love with you too gumi.” you hummed, pressing a sweet kiss of your own to his cheek.

he set you back down and cupped your cheeks, slowly leaning in and pressing light tender kisses to your lips, his mouth completely savoring over the taste of yours as he had been deprived of them for a freaking week— feeling like his dried up soul had been rejuvenated and made anew.

and you felt the same way… because you deepened the kiss, picked up the pace, pulled him closer until his chest was flush against yours and your hot breaths were mixed together in a misty cloud, megumi breathing heavily through his nose as he ran his needy desperate hands over your delicious body.

he trailed wet open mouthed kisses on your cheek, jaw, and all the way down to the side of your exposed neck, his hand supporting the other side as he feverishly licked a slow long stripe of spit up your neck with his rough tongue, your fists gripping the sides of his jersey as he nibbled and bit, his lips finally coming to enclose and suck around a certain spot as your breath hitched at how frenzied and sloppy he was being, drool practically running down your neck as he ravished, bit, and sucked over multiple areas.

you shoved your hands down his pants suddenly, and he choked in surprise as his hips thrusted forward, your fingers pumping and palming his hardened cock slowly as his breath shuddered against your neck.

“baby...” he murmured.

“hm?”

“how would you feel if i turned on the shower and fucked my cock in your pretty little cunt for a bit in there huh?…”

a needy whimper slipped past your lips against his ear, and he grew weak.

“is that okay—”

“more than okay—”

you squealed as he wasted no time in picking you up again and walking over to the showers, the both of you clumsily tearing off your clothes as megumi fumbled with the shower switch until luke warm water spritzed from above— entrapping the both of you in a humid trance as megumi squeezed your bare thighs and ushered you to jump, you doing so immediately and wrapping your legs around his waist.

he stepped in and literally slammed the shower door shut, the two of you giggling a little as the soothing water washed over your panting bodies, the sight of his handsome bright face making your cheeks flush and bury your face in his neck in response.

he chuckled softly, gently setting your back against the wet tile wall before kissing you again and again, his mouth messy against your puffy lips as he tried to drink up all that you gave him, the tip of his cock slipping past your folds and brushing against your swollen clit— each time making you squeak and jump.

you didn’t care about anything, your mind reeling and just wanting megumi’s dick inside of you as soon as possible, knowing that you’d never really had sex before and literally not giving a single shit because it was him— someone you trusted the most out of anyone in your life, and someone you wanted to give your all to no matter the circumstance.

he lined his fat tip then against your drooling hole.

“wait! wait the door—“ you gripped his shoulders for support. “the door did you lock it?”

“nope.”

megumi pushed his cock in slowly and gently, your choked gasps and moans echoing inside the shower as his head fell to rest in the crook of your hickey covered neck, him groaning in ecstasy as your gummy warm pussy strangled his dick to the tightest degree, already previously so wet and gushy that it thankfully barely hurt you at all as he bottomed out.

“fuuuckk— you’re warm.” he murmured, gripping your hips like a vice and softly caressing his thumb against your slippery skin to soothe you— hoping (but not really), you’d maybe release the clutch your pussy had on his dick to stop him from already shooting his cum all over your insides like a loser.

he slowly drew his hips back and fucked into you again, you jolting at the force as you fumbled to keep your grip steady on his shoulders, his cock fucking thick and massive as his little curve poked deliciously at your cervix, him gradually increasing his pace as you shuddered over the quick pat pat pat’s echoing through the walls.

“g—gumiii..” you whined.

“what baby?” he mumbled breathlessly, his eyes glued to where his dick connected with your hole as it slipped in and out lewdly, your pussy literally squelching and screaming for him with your bouncing tits in his face that made him clench his jaw in self restraint— trying his hardest not to fucking ram into you like nothing and take you.

“y—you’re biigg!” you hiccuped, your little gasps of breath enticing droplets of cum to leak out of his tip and ooze out of your little wet folds, megumi moaning at your words.

“yeah?” pat pat pat— “s’too much for you baby?”

he picked up the pace, on purpose as he meanly bounced you on his cock and shot his hips up against your pussy, his big heavy balls slapping against your ass and making your eyes fucking cross at the feeling.

“tell me you love me.” he panted. “now.”

“i—“ hic! “i love you—”

megumi grabbed your cheeks with his fingers and mushed them together, grinning deviously at the way your pouty lips pushed out cutely.

“how much.”

“s—so- ah!— so much gumi—”

“more— shit!” he choked, a particular squeeze from your abused cunt almost making him finish. “m— more than anything?”

slap slap slap—

“y—yes!—” you could barely even speak due to the erotic hold he had on your face. “i love you i love you i love—”

you squealed as he let go of your face, gave into his desires and rammed into you, both hands on your bruised hips as he gave your pussy no room to breathe with how fast he was shoving his fat cock inside of you, pounding and pummeling into your guts as your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt your release build up in your tummy.

“why were you asking me about the door earlier huh?” he panted. “you don’t want anyone to see how much of a” thrust! “slut you are? your legs spread for me like this and your pretty pussy creaming on my dick?”

you whined and moaned so fucking loudly, it ringing through megumi’s ears like a wicked symphony.

he pinched your nipple when you didn’t respond.

“answer me.”

thrust thrust thrust—

“n—no i didn’t!”

“no?”

he gripped your neck and sloppily ran his mouth over yours, feeling his cum on the brink of shooting out.

“m’gonna cum inside.”

“in— mmphf!— inside?”

“you don’t want it?” he let go of your neck. “cause i won’t give it to you if you don’t want it—”

“i do i do!” you scrambled and cupped his cheeks, bringing his lips back in and kissing him messily.

“give it to me gumi please!—“ hic! “eeekkk!”

hot sticky cum pumped out of his tip and into your gushy walls, your high making your toes curl as you creamed around his heavy cock feverishly, megumi’s entire body fucking shivering at the way your pussy felt like it was entirely made and molded for him.

he softly pumped himself inside and out of you, his mouth hung open in a daze as he watched his white cum slide out of your pretty hole and over his still connected dick, gently easing out after a minute and carefully setting you back down— not completely though, as he knew you’d be sore as he leaned most if not all of your body weight against him.

you held each other in a tight embrace then, your heavy breaths trying to find its normal rhythm as the warm water continued to cascade down your bodies, comfortingly.

“why don’t we have sex more often...” you mumbled.

he laughed softly, pecking the side of your head. “i was waiting for you to tell me baby. i didn’t want to pressure you.”

“i was waiting for you to tell me.” you emphasized. “i didn’t want to jump on you and just violate you—”

megumi’s chest vibrated as he laughed again, a cute boyish one that made you bite your lip.

“violate me?” he murmured, an amused smile on his face. “i’d want you to.”

“yeah?” you tilted your head, and his cheeks grew hot.

“yeah.”

finally you and megumi were in sync again, going back into each other’s routines as if the week long hiccup never happened, the both of you officially unraveling the aching knots in your chests that you hauled for seven tormenting days straight— together and attached to the hip once again as he started picking you up for your seven am classes every morning like before, you going to his practices straight after, and spending your hours sleeping in his dark cozy room this time around, snoring your little life away so megumi could recover.

and eventually, the world series arrived.

“my camera! my camera! my digital one did i bring it?!”

you flipped your purse upside down and dumped all of your things on the floor— your lip combo, compact mirror, snacks, random receipts, and small perfume bottle rolling around on the ground until your digital camera was finally in view.

your best friend cackled as she crouched down and helped you pick up your things. “you were taking pictures up megumi’s nose on the two hour drive over here yes you brought it—”

“i know i forgot i’m so nervous what if they lose what if someone fumbles what if—”

you both stood as you rambled on and she placed both of her hands on your shoulders, shaking you. “calm down! they’ll be fine! win or lose they still made it to the world series!”

the crowd roared much like the past two games, except much heavier, louder, more drilling as the music drummed through your body, the air windy but refreshing, and high pitched whistles echoing from around the stadium as everyone anticipated for the biggest game of the season.

you had lost count how many different news stations were here broadcasting the game, how many reporters you saw scrambling across the field trying to interview certain players— you too busy taking pictures of every single little thing and the both of you reapplying your lip liners over a million fucking times— even flagging down a crew member so you could take a picture with just your best friend, your backs to the camera showcasing the last names of your boyfriend’s on your jersey’s.

and when the game officially commenced and the players all went out on the field— megumi and his team did what they always do best, taking control of the scoreboard and earning runs like chump change as they worked professionally to take the trophy home, you constantly snapping pictures of megumi that your digital camera ran out of fucking storage before you even got the shot that you wanted.

eventually after a while of playing, it was megumi’s turn to hit.

“fuck! record for me please record! my camera ran out of storage oh my god use my phone please i love you—”

your best friend laughed as she took your phone from you and did what you asked, your hands on the railing and leaning over it as you anxiously watched him walk up to home plate and take position.

but instead of doing his usual faux swings and repositioned footing, megumi stepped to the side and turned his bat downward, you unable to tell what he was doing as his frame was blocking, his arm moving in various directions before he stepped back again on the home plate and repositioned himself.

your eyes trailed to the ground.

megumi had carved your initials in the dirt.

your girl friend gasped and cooed. “y/nnn!”

as megumi now did his faux swings, your bottom lip only wobbled as your eyes stayed trained to the carvings in the dirt, your heart skipping a thousand beats per minute as the thought of megumi thinking about you out there during one of the most important nights of his life, made you question repeatedly how you ever landed a man like him when all you do is talk and cry.

hit!

your eyes snapped up and you quickly wiped the corners of your eyes, megumi already running across the first two bases as the crowd roared.

“bring it home fushiguro!”

several of his teammates were cheering him on from the dugout, megumi running four runs with just one fucking hit?—

a grand slam.

and suddenly you were taken back to the day you noticed megumi for the first time, just like now with your doe eyes wide and cheeks pink, recognizing the only piece of baseball terminology you knew besides a home run.

except then he was just a stranger you were hopelessly in love with that knew how to play ball like no other.

now though, he’s a man you couldn’t ever imagine your life without. and you didn’t want to.

so as the game reached nine innings, megumi’s team running on the field in a bundle of absolute tears and yells and hollers that they won the world fucking series, all clustering together as they hoisted several players up on their shoulders, including megumi—

you and your best friend instantly booked it down there in a fit of tears.

you had no time to get your personal belongings together as you sprinted across the field like your life fucking depended on it towards megumi— him being put down by his teammates and him frantically looking around after until he spotted you, the brightest smile spreading across his face as he chucked his cap to the side and opened his arms out wide for you.

you jumped in and he spun you around, holding you tight as the screaming crowd surrounding you drowned itself out as you cried into megumi’s neck.

he pulled back, panting.

“did you see how i did a grand slam?”

you nodded rapidly.

“i did it because i knew its the only thing you would recognize!” he yelled over the noise. “so you would feel included when we won!”

oh my god.

he still remembered when you told him that?

“guummiii! how did you even calculate that?!” you cried harder, and he laughed as he spread tiny kisses all over your teary face, his eyes glimmering with absolute unadulterated happiness and bliss, the reality of having the two things he wanted most in life settling into his mind.

megumi didn’t really have a stance on religion— whether the factor is real or not something he didn’t really care about nor mind as he simply just chose to live.

but as he held you on the field, you crying for him and embracing him the way that you were, kissing him the way that you were, megumi only wanted to be covered in your favor. megumi only wanted to devote his entire life to you.

megumi only wanted to believe in you.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

want more? you can find my mlb!megumi fushiguro masterlist here!

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@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @hiraethwa @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @vividl3ss

[unabletonotlovesatoru]

nanami is two seconds away from leaving.

he should’ve known this would happen. should’ve known. because when gojo says, let’s grab a drink, what he really means is, let’s make nanami’s life miserable for sport.

“so, you’re telling me,” gojo says, draped over the bar like he owns the place, “that in all the years i’ve known you, i have never seen you flirt with a woman?”

nanami exhales slowly. “i don’t see why that matters.”

“it matters because you’re pushing thirty and still single.”

nanami doesn’t react. because technically, he’s not single. but that’s a secret. a very well-kept secret.

it was your idea, really. something about keeping things professional, avoiding unwanted attention, whatever. nanami agreed because he values your privacy—and also because he likes having you all to himself, away from nosy colleagues and meddling friends.

one very specific meddling friend, currently running his mouth.

“good thing i’m here,” gojo continues. “i happen to be an excellent wingman.”

nanami pinches the bridge of his nose. “gojo—”

you, on the other hand, are having the time of your life.

you sit a few seats away, sipping your drink and watching in pure amusement as gojo continues his self-appointed mission: finding nanami a date.

“alright, what about her?” gojo leans in, nodding towards a woman across the bar. “she’s cute, right?”

nanami doesn’t even look up from his whiskey. “not interested.”

“tch.” gojo clicks his tongue. “fine. what about her?” he gestures to another woman, this one already eyeing nanami with interest. “she looks like she reads. you love that boring intellectual stuff.”

nanami takes a slow sip of his drink. “still not interested.”

you stifle a laugh behind your glass. gojo, however, is undeterred.

“okay, okay,” he says, scanning the room. “i will find you a girlfriend tonight.”

nanami sighs. “i do not need—”

“oh! her. final offer. she’s perfect.”

gojo points to a woman sitting at the end of the bar. tall, elegant, the type nanami might have considered—if he weren’t already taken.

“go talk to her,” gojo urges.

“no.”

“why not?”

“because i don’t want to.”

“ugh.” gojo slumps against the bar. “you’re impossible.”

you’re fully laughing now, covering your mouth to muffle the sound. nanami sends you a dry look, but you can see the slight twitch of his lips.

this has gone on long enough.

so, while gojo sulks and nanami drinks, you casually lean over and press a kiss to nanami’s cheek.

gojo chokes.

nanami, unfazed, simply sets his glass down.

you pull back, meeting gojo’s stunned expression with a smirk.

“he’s taken, gojo,” you say. “has been for over a year.”

gojo stares. “what?!”

you shrug. nanami simply takes another sip of his whiskey, looking more content than he has all night.

“you—you two—” gojo points between you, eyes wide. “this whole time?!”

“yes.” nanami says.

“and you didn’t tell me?!”

“no.” you say.

gojo groans, collapsing against the bar like he’s been personally victimized. “i can’t believe this. my own best friend. my own colleague. deceived.”

“you’ll live,” nanami replies dryly.

gojo pouts. “i need a drink.”

“so do i.” nanami mutters.

you just grin, raising your glass in victory.

[thrasherella]

Needy Werewolf Husband is going into his rut and is really, reaallllyyyyy trying to get his wife's attention away from the household chores she's insisting on finishing before he can have his way with her...

...

He followed her all around the kitchen as she tidied up, wrapping his arms around her from behind and groping her tits as she cleaned the few dishes in the sink, pinching and teasing her nipples as she sighed and moaned, grinding his hard cock into her soft ass, his breath hot and voice desperate against her ear as he begged her to let him fuck her already.

"Please let me put it in..." he whined, nipping at the shell of her ear lightly in frustration as his swollen, red cock throbbed against her, begging for more attention, for more friction, for more anything; he felt like he was starting to lose his mind.

She had told him to keep humping her ass like a horny little puppy if he couldn't wait, and he really couldn't. He continued fondling her breasts, palming and squeezing them in his massive hands, and she whimpered and mewled, rolling her hips back against his.

"See, you want it too..."

She continued to deny him as she finished wiping and organizing the kitchen counters, his cock dribbling all over her backside as he pumped against her, unable to stop himself. He needed to pin her down, needed to stuff her full of his cock; he could smell her arousal mounting as she ground that perfect little ass back against him, her honeyed scent driving him absolutely wild.

"Just a little longer love, you're being such a good boy," she cooed, scratching him gently under his chin as he made puppy dog eyes at her, eliciting from him a low, humming moan.

He humped her legs while she vacuumed the living room, whimpering and growling as she did her best to ignore him, slowly and methodically making her way across the room as he ground into her, dragging and rubbing his cock against her, staining her clothes with his sticky precum, nipping at the back of her neck and ears, demanding her attention.

"Please, need to fuck you now baby, need to fill you; need to empty my cock into your perfect little pussy and give you a litter of pups..."

"Be a good boy and wait until I'm done cleaning the bedroom, okay?" she had purred, and he whimpered a weak agreement in response.

When they got to the bedroom however, she was helpless against him as he shoved her face first down onto the mattress, ripping apart those pesky little shorts and panties that had been blocking his aching cock, confirming what he already knew from her overwhelming scent that her cunt was already drenched and waiting for him to stretch and fill her.

"I lied," he huffed, mounting her from behind and lining up his dripping cockhead with her pussy, parting her nether lips slowly around him, loving how she moaned into her pillow as he did. "I don't wanna be a good boy; and you were a bad girl, it's not nice to tease a rutting wolf...now you be good, and take my knot," he hilted into her in one hard thrust, feeling her pussy clenching around him; a low, rumbling growling escaping his throat, and a deliciously muffled scream coming from her as he knotted her, forcing every inch of himself into her tight cunt.

He was already so overstimulated, biting down into her shoulder as he came, painting her insides white as he filled her with his thick load, and she cried out as her own orgasm crashed over her, hips bucking and rolling against him, squirting her climax all over his dick and pooling on the bedsheets.

"That's a good girl," his breath was hot against her ear, pushing her hips up slightly to get one clawed hand between her and the mattress, flittering and rubbing his fingers against her swollen clit, loving how she writhed and squirmed beneath him helplessly. "No more chores, no where for you to go, sweet thing stuffed and stuck on my knot...just be a good girl and turn off your brain, and squirt on my dick again, and again, and again while I make you my cum-dumpster..."

She couldn't deny this was exactly what she wanted...she knew her husband better than anyone and knew that denying him was a sure fire way to make sure he took extra time to "punish" her for the time she had wasted keeping him waiting.

Oh no, what a tragedy that would be...